The earth mover was in resting mode again, having carved out room enough for a thriving colony of Madacorians. None of whom wanted anything to do with the new digs. They had retreated into the belly of the beast that they'd called their home for as long as anyone could remember.  

Draxor stood at the lip of the giant circle that framed the underground colony peering into the abyss, chewing a shama-the Madacorian equivalent of an apple. He'd been alone with his thoughts for a time now. And grand they were. Deserts always brought out the best in him. You could see forever in the thin atmosphere. What more appropriate for a philosopher, a seer, who had only to close his eyes to see into eternity? Here, he didn't have to close his eyes.  

"You are not afraid?"  

Marvelito's voice was like a knife to the chest. Draxor had had no sense of his approach. He had all but melted into the landscape. Forced back into his body like a genie into a bottle against its will, he felt both unduly imprisoned and annoyed. The breeze had been whispering to him so gently, caressing his skin like a lover who could only manage such attentiveness from the depths of his solitude. Now whatever brainwaves lent themselves to vaporizing into the depths of infinity were gone, replaced by his more familiar sharply focused mind that didn't miss a trick, oppressive in its vigilance, its hyper-attention to detail. Like the details of Marvelito's visage. 

"Look at yourself. How can you have no sense of what you were born to?" Marvelito's very footsteps penetrated the crusty mantle of desert floor as if it were plush carpeting never before stepped on, leaving imprints that wouldn't fade until the next howling desert wind sand-papered them away. His being was that dense. If he sneezed, he'd no doubt blow Draxor onto the neighboring world. His sinewy muscles in the absence of any body fat to serve as cloaking made him out as a strangely esoteric but powerful wizard who had at his command an army of snakes coiled tightly about his being ready to spring into action at a moment's bidding. "My God, man, you're one of the greatest warrior species the heavens have ever known. Your mere forced exhale has been known to strip an enemy of all defenses like acid on metal for fear of what comes next. I've seen your kind merely lean into an adversary to stop their hearts cold from fear and dread." 

Marvelito smiled, puffing up like a blowfish at the complements. The poor boy had no doubt sensed greatness in himself from a young age but with no one to water and fertilize the seed of his imaginings, the culture of nitwits about him had served to dampen his spirits. He was not yet strong enough to stand on his own, alone but not lonely, with a spirit bright enough to fill the heavens when no other light presented itself. He was not yet ready to be a light unto others as the Buddha would have it. But he'd only known Draxor for a day; give him time.  

"Where is your fearless leader, Dracarius?" 

"Hiding, trembling in fear."  

Draxor laughed at the youth's deliberate and entirely transparent attempts to amuse him. His directness and verbal minimalism were refreshing. "Well, you better take me to him." 

"I fear you will not last long in Dracarius's presence. He talks a mile a minute about things which simply do not matter. His words will chip away at your soul until there's nothing left."  

"Perhaps you'd like to know how it is you came to be so perceptive?" Draxor said, fighting to restrain the latest smirk. It was embarrassing to be so out of control of these newfound facial muscles when the kid so clearly had every one of his so totally under control.  

"Yes, actually, I would."  

"You are not just bold and fearless by nature, your innate body armoring all but impenetrable.... It is part of your warrior's makeup to size up an adversary's merit in a flash." 

"A surefire way to minimize the likelihood of coming to any harm?" 

"Yes, but more to the point, a surefire way to avoid confrontations with enemies that are beneath you. Your code of honor is as impressive as your battle tactics." 

"I like how you stroke my ego." 

Draxor laughed, threw his hand around Marvelito, as the two advanced toward the mechanical beast, home to Dracarius and his many fears. They hadn't taken two steps when... 

The earth began to shake beneath their feet.  

Marvelito, seeing Draxor could not maintain his balance, lifted him off the ground with one hand, and entirely bore the shock of the spasming earth, using those sinewy muscles in ways that would have impressed hydraulic shock-absorbers, the sentient ones anyway.  

Draxor wanted to lend commentary to what he was witnessing, but he couldn't shout over the cadence of the rumbling earth which was approaching deafening decibel rates.  

He noticed the carefully carved rock dwellings made by the earth mover the night prior were crumbling into the abyss. Clearly, fear is not entirely unwarranted in a place such as this, he thought. 

As the earth fractured into ever larger fissures, Marvelito's inordinate strength was needed to propel them from jutting rock to jutting rock, now but islands in a sea of drop offs descending into the bowels of hell. Draxor pointed upward. Marvelito understood, taking them to higher ground so Draxor could take in the bigger picture.  

From a higher promontory, the picture was sparkling clear. He'd seen this on ice worlds many times before, but never on planets with hardly a drop of water. Melting ice behaved in just this way. Could the molten core of this world be causing this, compelling the rocks to behave like shards of ice in a glass of liquid? Whatever was behind it, the Madacorian scientists weren't total fools. If they had a month, they had a lot of time.  

On the plus side, people on the brink of death tended to be more open minded about things they would never consider during safer times. Perhaps he might see real glimmers of self-reflection and awareness before the month was through. Maybe, just once, he'd witness people able to rise above the predictable. If they couldn't evolve in life, anymore, maybe they could evolve in the face of certain death.  

Draxor noticed the "grasshopper" instinctively flitting from rock to rock, no doubt programmed to avoid collapsing boulders as a product of its own digging. With its headlights where a real grasshopper's eyes would be, and its long antenna flicking about it, maintaining a protective aura of heightened sensitivity to its surroundings, it exuded a remarkably good semblance of life.   

* * * 

Draxor peered from behind the giant diamond-glazed canopies that served as the grasshopper's eyes. The Madacorians were madly going about, reducing the rocks outside to manageable rubble that was easier to walk on, leaving the feistier boulders alone. With nothing but broad swords and battle axes and the rest of their medieval weaponry, these strange knights from another age did war with the land fully intending on taming it. Perhaps they eschewed more modern weapons from less bygone eras because these were more dependable. They were rapidly turning the vista into one impressive Zen-like rock garden. Draxor had to hand it to them; they had a way of settling their nerves that was clearly superior to his.  

"What is causing this?" 

Dracarius's voice held all the falsetto notes of a man clinging to hope and finding it a pretty frictionless surface to grab hold of, and a steeply angled one at that.  

Draxor, sipping his coffee and refusing to take his eyes from the windows that afforded his high perch overlooking the outside world, merely sighed. "What does it matter?" In his peripheral vision he could detect Dracarius's charcoal black skin and silver-white hair that set him apart from the others. It was possibly their species' idea of an albino. Although more likely, from the look and sound of him, the biggest runt of the litter. He was nearly as tall as the six-foot-and-change Reds, but fairly lithe by comparison, even by human standards. 

Dracarius's black skin afforded no perks, other than setting him apart in his unnatural title as leader, being possibly the only one of his kind. Far from it, much like with albinos of other species, in battle he'd be singled out easily, targeted as the likely leader, and taken out first.  

But the Madacorian culture had become so denigrated, they just assumed he looked the way he did owing to some rightful nobility bestowed by the gods. Logic apparently was not a forte on this world, as the sniveling coward was without doubt the most retrograde of the lot of them. The others at least retained some sliver of their noble past. They were once the stuff of fantasy. Who'd have thought an entire race of champions existed? What's more, in a time when selflessness was so outmoded.  

"We need to get your people off this world, Dracarius." 

"Nonsense. Our scientists will fix it now that you're here to guide them." 

"You have something stronger for this headache you're giving me?" Draxor handed him back the empty coffee cup.  

"Of course, Senti. As you will." Dracarius bowed and nearly fled the room.  

Marvelito, awaiting an auspicious opportunity to approach, did so. He had been skulking in the wings at the periphery of the room. "You have turned Dracarius into your man servant. I feel at last we have truly bonded." 

Draxor laughed absently, still struck by the sight of the warriors taking on inert rock beyond the window as the fiercest enemy they could find. "Your people should never have settled here in the first place. You're not homesteaders. You're warriors and noble champions. You should be helping to maintain peace in the empire in the service of higher ideals." 

"What, you don't like our rock gardens?" 

Draxor smirked. "I see you've dedicated your life to amusing me. God knows lesser men have tried and failed." 

"This campaign has two phases. First we will lift your dark spirits, and then we will address what a pompous ass you are." 

Draxor sighed amusement. "I see your warrior instincts are intact, even if you've shifted the battlefield some."  

"Is it true what you say? We will be leaving this world? What will become of us?" 

"You remind me of the Knights Templar of ages gone by. They too were a stoic lot with sharp, perceptive minds. They too were bold and courageous and fought as the greatest warriors the world then knew to protect the ancient wisdoms and prophecies. As those reside now in my head, so you shall fight boldly to protect me." 

"'Sharp, perceptive minds?' You consider us dullards." 

Draxor chuckled softly. "I suppose if I were tending rock gardens for a couple of hundred years, I'd have lost my edge also. We weren't all cut out to be Zen masters." 

"And what enemies has Senti that he needs us to protect him?" 

"Unless I miss my guess - good is about to battle evil on a cosmic scale that will make this the holy war to end all holy wars. Something had to have drawn me here; it's the only thing that explains such a felicitous find as you Madacorians. Something in my unconscious is bubbling up in response to evil bubbling up at the other edge of the cosmos." 

"Those on-again, off-again psychic abilities to which you referred earlier." 

"That, or the Plenarium set me on this path hoping I would be tempted to elevate you to your former heights - for purposes entirely their own. Putting off my visit here long enough to augment the desire of a thirsty man to drink." 

"And what will you give us in return? Besides your complete disdain? Which you already give so freely."  

"You must stop making me smile on command like your hand puppet. It's demeaning to a man of my stature." 

"A god among men, you mean?" 

"Precisely. And as to your point - I will return you to your former glory. In my presence you will become all you can be. And so much more." 

"You will make us deep and meaningful, like you?" 

"That is the aim, yes." 

"My soul aches for profundity. I accept your bargain." 

"Yes, well, you are the prodigy of the lot. It's convincing the others that will take some doing." 

"But you have some ideas?" 

"Yes, I have some ideas."