1

"In the desert, only the strong survive," Manu said to her class. They were on a field trip outdoors, a quick jaunt to the plains just outside the Village. She'd taken off her shoes—the rust-coloured sand beneath her feet and between her toes was soothing—though the children had opted to keep theirs on. They did things differently here.

The Terscheckii Redsand Desert, known for its titular red sand, slabs of rock jutting from the ground, and colossal pillars of spineless purple cacti. The contrast was something else. Plus there was the perpetually cloudless blue sky, and the jet-black obsidian mountains that encircled much of the desert plains, aside from the canyon out to Old Winestead and beyond. The mix of scenery was like looking at an alien world. But it was her home now, and she loved it all the same.

Satisfied with her fill of the view, Manu continued: "In the desert, no matter how many different species of prey that might exist for one creature's own survival, that same creature is the prey to another predator out there. But they cannot all die, as you know. It is the circle of life. It is balance. The strong survive. The weak die. One must find a way—any way—to overcome."

"Are you really going to run for mayor, Miss Ebanedza?" blurted a voice from amongst the kids. It was Hundooni, small for his age but still a teenager, standing at the very front. He wobbled back and forth with his hands behind his back.

"No, Hundooni," she said, calmly. She didn't know how this rumour had started, but she suspected one of the other teachers or one of the parents had done it. Someone with a grudge.

Djerome, one of the bigger boys in the back: "My daddy says you shouldn't be allowed to run, on account o' you just arrivin' and all. He also dudn't like you 'cuz yer not from here."

"That's racist," said the two twins, Yeltza and Tzelya, one girl in red robes and the other in yellow.

"It's the same race—"

"Kids," Manu said, loud and firm. "I am not running for mayor. I'm your teacher. I know I've only been at the school for a year and a half, but I'm not planning on leaving this job anytime soon."

Nobody said anything. Case closed.

About fifteen feet further was a fifty-foot-tall purple monster of a cactus, with countless offshoots of various sizes reaching out in all directions—including along the ground: big plump logs half-buried in sparkling red sand, pups in various stages of development.

Manu led her class that way.

She said, "You kids are lucky here. Your most common cactus by far is this spineless terscheckii, with its tiny, fluffy areoles and fourteen bumpy ribs. See how the larger branches swell up, but stay at fourteen ribs? These plants aren't known to deviate from the norm, unlike the spiny variant and other post-War plants." She ripped a small electric-purple pup from one of the big logs. Yellow-green juice dripped out the torn end. "If you are ever lost in the desert, these can and will sustain you until you find your way."

To emphasize her point, she took a big bite from the cactus and tasted its tangy, sweet juice on her tongue. "These cacti contain adequate amounts of magnesium, vitamins C and D, as well as water, sugar and fibre." Her fingers were stained green already. Her face probably was, too.

She passed the pup around to her students. Some didn't take a bite, some did, but along a different part of the cactus.

Djerome yawned. "Why do we gotta learn this? We don't go out here. We're all inside, doin' anythin' we can to be anywhere but out here."

"Djerome, show some respect, please," Manu told him. "If you have an issue with the curriculum, take it up with the school board. I was brought in for my extensive background in foraging and surviving in the wilderness. I've taught you math and language and everything else this year, now we're into what I'm really here for." She stood now with her hands on her hips, the scars on her arms loud and proud. "If you don't want to be here, go. It's not my grade."

The boy didn't move. Or say anything. His turn with the pup came and she thought he might toss it into the bushes. Instead he smiled and took a bite.

She said, "There are a lot of other cacti and succulents out there, beyond the mountains. Some of them make you sick, could even make you dead. Others make you sick in another way, which could go good or bad, but only temporarily. But the ones you should really know are the ones that you can safely consume, with no temporary psychological changes. Then it becomes a food, maybe even a delicious fruit if people get smart. It's one thing to read about them or see fuzzy blue pictures resembling them in your Travek unit, which you will, but it's another to see them up close, in person."

Djerome wandered over with a sweet-as-sunshine smile on his face. He asked innocently, "What ones are the psychedelic ones, Miss?"

"Very funny," Manu said, and she proceeded to guide them around the area, pointing out other, smaller succulents of benefit. The class was interested, or feigned it. Either way it was a win in her book.

It was a good day.

It was night when first contact was made, when her own lessons would be put to the test.

2

She couldn't sleep. Her feet were hot, legs restless, mind racing.

And the faint cry, something like From desert plains... Every so often, her fitful sleep punctuated by that phrase. What did it mean? Which plains? Whose voice was she hearing? It sounded neither masculine nor feminine. Just an amorphous voice, a suitable sound she expected to hear next, whatever the register or cadence happened to be.

This wouldn't do. Sleep was important. Manu needed to do something, needed to go outside and find the source of this noise.

Wearing only her nightgown, she left the comfort of her air-conditioned hut. Out into a night still quite hot. The sky was awash with shades of pink, purple hues where it all met the coming darkness. Terscheckii Village was a series of gunmetal-grey huts, done up using old pre-War plans for building colonies on Mars. In the daytime the shades would come out, protecting people walking around outside from the sun's harsh rays.

From desert plains... came that voice again, maybe in her head, maybe not. This time it sounded like her father. She felt tired. So tired. Eyelids getting low. Her feet moved as if on their own, taking her through the streets of Terscheckii.

Manu's eyes shot open and she was standing in a field of cacti, the Village twenty minutes behind her. Had she really sleepwalked this far?

Manu Ebanedza...

She spun around, saw nothing but row after row of cactus-shaped silhouettes.

Her feet took her forward, deliberate but careful, through the rows. She peered around each neighbouring plant, wondering what she might find. But each time nothing was there.

Come...

Then, the night lit up and there was a charred-black pit in the desert. Purple-green chunks of cactus dotted the immediate area. In the centre was a gold lump of what appeared to be flesh. She couldn't say what kind.

From desert plains, I bring you life...

The flesh throbbed. Green liquid oozed out, forming shallow pools in its many folds and crevices before spilling out onto the scorched sand beneath.

Manu looked away, wanting to puke. She could taste bile and curry in the back of her throat. If this... thing... didn't stop pulsating and moving, she'd definitely spew. Peeking through one barely open eye, she dared to look—

From desert plains...

Her vision went white. The voice, that changing voice, it told her to listen carefully. Her world could be green again. And she saw the planet, spinning slowly, a little wobble in its spin. It looked dead. Grey and brown. But then it changed. The grey turned green and the brown turned blue. Balance was restored. Life was renewed. That was the way it could be.

All she had to do was listen.

You must be the channel between your species and mine. We are old, with much knowledge to offer. You are young, with much to learn.

"Wh-What are you?" she whimpered, still blinded. Her body felt weightless, assuming it still existed. The planet was gone and she was back in the blinding white light.

I am Qithlek, and my species are what you might call Homo terrestris, though we call ourselves Qlonors, from a faraway world called Qlinlor, in another universe entirely. I have come because we are old, and we will die soon. Your species could achieve so much good if this knowledge we possess is used with respect. There are some things you must do. They will not be easy tasks, but with strength and guidance you can achieve anything. Your species is capable of immense feats in regards to the multiverses.

In the real world, Manu stood shivering in her nightgown next to the throbbing chunk of gold flesh. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared into the light shining through her mind's eye, lost in the visions Qithlek was sending her.

She almost laughed when the voice told her she had to run for mayor of Terscheckii Village.

3

Turned out the rumours had been true after all. Some of the townsfolk were intrigued, others suspicious. The kids took it the hardest. It was like a betrayal to them. Manu had delayed as long as possible, but Qithlek kept pressing her.

So after a week of sitting on it, she'd told her class first. Hundooni had asked if she'd still be their teacher. She'd said she didn't know. His silence said it all. As the weeks passed, as she still taught her class, Manu found volunteers for her mayoral campaign: the parents of some of her students, kids who'd struggled with previous teachers but seemed to respond to Manu's style. It was an unexpected reward in a time of great uncertainty. Momentum built quickly.

As for Qithlek, he, it—she didn't know what, didn't dare ask—Qithlek physically changed by the day. With her daily feedings of filtered water, the lump of flesh became a slab of flesh, with five nubs arranged around the slab, like a star—or a person. Then the nubs expanded, elongated into limbs and what very well could be a head. Time would tell. Qithlek certainly didn't let on how he'd eventually appear.

Why did she do it? She supposed some part of her was afraid, another part was intrigued. Another vain part wanted the glory, the fame. Ultimately, though, what Manu really wanted—what compelled her most—was the idea of her world restored. Rejuvenated. From desert plains to lush rainforests.

Maybe.

4

A miracle happened during one of the early debates against Greyhm Otephnera, the man who'd been the Village's mayor for close to twenty years. By this point in time Manu had had to give up her teaching job.

As she and her opponent stood on a makeshift stage on the side of Main Street with the parched desert behind them, Greyhm had said there was no sense talking about a greener world, that such a thing was pure fantasy.

"It is in the historic record," Manu told him, "we killed this planet with our own negligence. We can do something about it to bring it back."

Tell them you can make something green for them right now, Qithlek whispered in her head.

She thought it was crazy. Greyhm was blathering on about something else—she wasn't listening to any of that noise. But what Qithlek said was even crazier.

Do it. Trust me.

That gold lump of flesh came to mind, oozing green blood when she first came across it. The way it was looking more human by the day—but not. There was something uncanny about Qithlek's appearance. Something unnerving.

Looks could be deceiving. But was that the case this time?

I know we are different species. Mine has so much to offer yours. The multiverses are vast and endless. If your kind had a taste of the knowledge to be found...

"Well, Ms. Ebanedza?" Greyhm said to her. "What is your rebuttal to that?"

"To be honest, I stopped listening to you a while ago," she told him to polite, restrained laughter. "I can make something green for you all right now." Instantly she regretted saying it, because it was so silly. The idea was preposterous. How could something like that happen? Pre-War texts mentioned terraforming, a gradual process. Not instantaneous. Not magic.

It is not magic, Qithlek told her. It is better. It is science.

And the desert behind them opened up into a world of dense jungle and forest, so many shades of green stretching across a ten-foot-long-and-wide space. The whole setup was draped across two towering trees of a species nobody could name. It was as out of place as it was unfathomable: there, in the middle of the desert, a square patch of land from another, greener world.

But there it was indeed.

The crowd gasped. Manu gasped. Greyhm stared at her as if she was a freak, a mutant.

An alien.

Kids were first to explore the strange new place. Then their parents, trying to get them to come out of their new plaything.

The news declared Manu had won the debate.

5

It was Sunday night, technically Monday morning. People were inside their little silver huts, sleeping in big comfortable beds. The polls opened later that morning and the new mayor would be chosen. Manu's win was almost guaranteed. Qithlek had been her coach the whole way.

She headed to the impact site carrying a blanket. Qithlek, grown too big for his little crater in the desert, needed moving. Qithlek was too important, he needed to be sheltered, protected.

Manu crossed the little land-bridge over the ditch, and she felt her nausea rising up her throat. She belched, feeling sick with herself, sick with the thought of seeing Qithlek, sick with the idea of such a negative reaction to a being so pure and honest and good.

Because it was vile to look at. Sprawled out across the sand, at five-foot-five Qithlek resembled an old, bloated man crossed with a fish. Perpetually covered in green-brown slime, which encompassed the entirety of his ghostly white, pink-blemished skin. He was hairless, and from what she could tell, genderless. His bone structure reminded her of a man.

I am sorry for this, he said in her head. I know you find my appearance unsettling. We do, too.

Manu threw the blanket over top of him and picked him up. Despite his size, he weighed very little. His eyes seemed to be permanently closed, glazed over with a thin membrane of some kind. He liked to keep his hands tucked up against his chest.

She pulled the blanket down over his head and started the journey back to the Village, back to her basement.

Manu, I wasn't entirely honest when I told you the reason for me being here. For me, this is punishment. I was angry with someone and now I must perform my duty...

"What do you mean?" she said as she walked up a sand dune.

My species is immobile without technological expertise. It was our own predecessors who helped us reach our current point. I am left here to reform, without my machine to assist me. This is the ultimate punishment for my species. To be so helpless. To be ourselves.

"Don't worry, Qithlek. I can help you."

I only hope when the time comes you'll stand with me.

She didn't know what to say to that. So she took him the rest of the way in silence. She'd made up a little bed for him in advance.

6

Almost sunrise. The shades had already come out over the Village, ready to absorb all the intensity the sun had to offer.

While Manu slept upstairs and Qithlek slept on his little bed of blankets in the basement, a small remote-controlled rover roamed around outside the hut. It found a pipe leading in and cut a hole large enough for it to get through.

Through the pipe, which was dark but appeared to be an old sewer line, and out into a dim, dusty, unused room upstairs. The rover rolled underneath the door out into the hall, then tumbled down stair after stair, navigated another hallway, tumbled down more stairs to the basement.

The rover followed a map of the hut, which was displayed for its operator nearby as a fuzzy blue picture. It rounded the corner and on the display was something plain weird.

A quick flash filled the room. The rover rolled away, climbing the stairs with ease.

7

It was a landslide victory. Manu's message had resonated with the voters. Change was wanted. A green planet was desired. The old ways were outdated.

But most of all people wanted to know how it had all happened. How had she made that ten-by-ten patch of land go green?

They will need to meet my kind sometime, Qithlek told her. He lay spread-eagled under a blanket in his made-up bed. His face, as usual, was a blank, gelatinous mass with glazed-over eyes. It will be better to meet them sooner.

"I know, I know," she told him.

Do you understand that my species has a limited window of time to inform you of all there is to know? I can show you how to make things green, but more can come only after contact is made with the rest of humanity. True enlightenment for all.

The idea scared her. People could be ignorant and downright rude. When faced with something they couldn't understand, some people reacted with extreme hostility. How would they react to Qithlek and his people?

I understand. It saddens us it has to be this way. Though it is humbling to know we are merely another bridge to cross on the path to your final enlightenment. Prepare yourself. I will teach you what you wish. With more time I could teach you so much more...

There was no touch. No physical contact. Qithlek and his people didn't work that way. They were telepaths. Manu felt him enter her mind. Initially a cold zap in the back of her head, then like her head had expanded to fit two minds. And then—

She saw the planet again, spinning out in space. It was completely green, and for a second she wondered if such a change would even be good for the planet. But then she realized this wasn't a choice, this was a tool. It didn't have to be one way or the other, it could be both.

Balance.

From desert plains, new life abound.

8

Manu awoke an hour later, feeling refreshed and ready to perform her duties.

You did well, Qithlek told her. But there is something amiss. More of your people are coming. I sense their anger, their fear. It builds.

Her refreshment turned to vigilance. She shot up and started throwing blankets over Qithlek.

No. They must see me. They know me a little already. Check your device.

Manu pulled the blankets off. "What? What the hell happened?" she asked, rushing upstairs for her Travek. She found it on the nightstand, beside the clock and the new Wilton Scrowes novel. She clicked it on and checked the local news.

Top story: What Does the New Mayor Have in Her Basement?

And there, plain as day to her but certainly leaving lots to the imagination for others: Qithlek. A fuzzy blue version of him, sure, but there was an obvious human shape, and the different shades of blue made distorted shadows all over the place. How did they know it was her basement, or even a basement, for that matter? It didn't matter. Something was up, and the people wanted answers. A controversy on her first day. With a lovely photo taken by Djerome Otephnera, the former mayor's son and her former student. Perfect.

Do not worry, Qithlek told her. Open your door and open your heart and stand with me. All will be well.

Trembling, heart pounding, Manu walked downstairs and unbolted the front door, pulling it open as she walked off, down to the basement.

Voices grew louder, indecipherable. People shouted over the noise.

Manu stood near Qithlek, like a guardian, maybe. Or a friend.

She waited.

I am pulling them our way.

"Why?"

Because my time here is over. I must go now. We must all go now.

"I don't understand," Manu said, and she was seeing herself through Qithlek's mind. Seeing the admiration for the human form, for the physical ability, for the intellectual capability.

I will hold on as long as I can.

I understand now. Are you afraid of dying?

Why should I be? Is it afraid of me?

She bounced back into herself and saw a crowd in the basement with them, huddled near the foot of the stairs. Much of the crowd stared with disgust at the old-man-fish thing lying in the mass of blankets.

You've learned what you wanted, Qithlek said to her.

She nodded. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, looking some of the others in the eye, "three months ago I experienced a restless night, one where I was compelled to go out into the desert. I was contacted by Qithlek, one member of an alien race from another universe entirely. They didn't come to invade us, or even to bring terror. They came to bring knowledge. He and his people are about to die, but he showed me how to make the world green again, just like during the debate, but more."

There were murmurs amongst the crowd, expressing bemusement, incredulity, shock, interest. Some were leaning or attempting to boost themselves up to get a better look at Qithlek.

Thank you, Manu. Tell them I wish to speak with them, before I go.

"Qithlek would like to say some words before he goes. Do not be alarmed. It is a beautiful experience. Do not fight it."

She spotted wariness in some of the eyes at that, but Qithlek was too quick. In a second she saw them all transformed into changed people, better people, people who understood the differences in others. Manu watched them all shed tears, their eyes lost in faraway places conjured up by the Qlonor gift. She remembered that feeling. She knew the others would remember it, too.

Farewell, Qithlek told her.

Wait, she thought.

And imagined she went with him.