Drift by Wen Wen Yang

I leaned against the divider between the two apartment complexes. Yawning silently, I considered taking a nap in the darkness of the night. I curled my limbs against my body, and rested my chin on my knees.

The door to the roof opened in the building next door. I sat up immediately, though it would have made more sense to remain as still as possible.

A flashlight immediately shone in my face. I grunted, covering my face with my hands.

“Hey. What are you doing up here?”

“Star gazing.” I said, though the words were muffled in my hands.

“Let’s see some identification.” He said, approaching. I could feel the light spreading across my pale skin.

Oh, damn… I took off, turning into the darkness and avoiding the light.

“Hold it. Freeze. Police!”

Yeah, like I’m going to listen to you.

“We have an intruder on the south side. I’m pursuing on foot.”

I ran toward the edge of the building.

“Suspect fleeing. He’s going to jump!”

No. I’m not jumping. And I’m not a ‘he.’ I leapt off the side and unraveled my wings. The air filled them with a sigh, greeting me again. In the darkness, the officer likely wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the shadows and me.

My wingtip swiped against the air, ripping through time and realm. I tumbled through the hole, and landed at Zylphor’s webbed feet.

“You call this not attracting attention?” His voice rumbled like the earth during a quake.

“Where’s the fun without attention?” I grumbled, trying to stand. My wings flapped, pulling my upper body into a stand. “Besides, I always find the heavens of Earth to be the most beautiful. But I haven’t been able to see anything after the beginning of 21st century. It’s a bit depressing.”

Zylphor scoffed. He stretched out his finned hand. I handed him a small parcel of pills incased in circular plastic. He handed back my fees and tucked the package into his inner pocket.

For appearances, Zylphor was everything a high sea overlord should be. He had the booming voice, the immense body mass, and even a few wise whiskers on the corners of his lips. One would then be surprised that he had earth children, as I called them. They were plants of the most vibrant colors he kept under close guard. Few people knew about it. I only know about it because I get their fertilizer every now and then from Earth.

Groaning, I went on to deliver my other parcels. The pay was good, seeing as I am the only Drifter who could keep their mouth shut.

I delivered banned books to the hyperactive males who paid more than enough to get their filthy hands on material to dirty their minds. Personally, I find Earth females to be repulsive. But, of course, I am not a male. The males are from a different planet you see. It seems there are two planets where mothers go to give birth. Something about the air, soil or water makes the child male or female.

I have high-class clients too. There are museums who want the technological data of other planets and times. Sometimes they ask for the strangest things, like a Model Beta Phi. That, conveniently, is the largest appliance of the Sixth Constellation. I suppose I can’t make everyone happy.

Which brings me to my last delivery, Lyng. She was my mentor when I was younger and when my wings had less bullet holes and scratches. She taught me to scan before I drifted, and to drift in shadows to avoid being caught. Of course, it took practice. Ever see a flash of something in the corner of your eye, but when you turn, there’s nothing? That’s a Drifter. More likely than not, it was me.

Eventually, Lyng had to retire. It is hard work, running, flying and gathering material. Sometimes it’s easy, like a courier job, pass Parcel Alpha to Planet Beta by Time Delta. But Lyng worked during a time when everyone was curious about everyone else. She must have done more trips than there are Hendees on Edgehill, and the multiply by the dozen! Now, she’s resting. Well, truth be told, she’s dying. It’s natural, of course. But I try to help with some fey dust. (The fey are practically buried in it, shedding it every time their wings flutter.)

“Ah, Wrede!” Pi called out. I grumbled and tried to come back another time when he’s out. Pi, unfortunately, is an arachnid, Class Eph. In moments, he has the threads around my wings. I plummeted, right into his arms. I gagged and tried to break through his web.

“Get your hands off me.” I shouted. He has eight arms, by the way. Each of them can spin eight threads at a time. I hate the math. I always lose.

“I love it when you come back from Earth.” He said, pressing me against his body. “You always talk dirty.”

I coughed, just to warn him. Nothing. He held me still. I bit into his highest shoulder. Blue blood stained my teeth. He tried not to scream, but I knew I hit something. Finally, he dropped me onto the ground.

“Oh, that’s nasty.” I coughed, wiping his blue blood off my teeth between spits.

“If you would just succumb to my charms,” he said as he began stitching himself together. “You would only bite me in the chilled mists of passion.”

“That’s sick.” I fluttered my wings to bring myself to a standing position. “Is Lyng in?”

“Yeah, Aunt Lyng is in her room.” He said, as he tried to keep his silver hair out of the blood. It’s corrosive to everything but Drifters. We have to be hardy to stay alive despite things like him.

“Lyng?” I called out as I entered her dark room. “It’s Wrede. I brought fey dust and earth candles.”

“What scent?” She asked in a wheeze. Sadly, she couldn’t stay like this much longer.

“Something called frankincense.” I tapped the wick and the flame barely pierced the darkness. I walked to her bedside and placed the candle on the nightstand. Taking out a small pouch, I took a pinch of the fey dust and threw it onto the flame. A cool smoke erupted and spread across the room.

“How is the outside world?” Lyng asked before taking a deep breath. Fey dust, when inhaled by Drifters, lightens up the chest. Slowly, she began to breathe without wheezing.

“Dark and dreary,” I replied.

“You needn’t lie to me.” She said and placed a hand on my knee. “No matter how it is, you know that I want you to see more of it.”

“No one sees more of the world than Drifters.” I retorted as I patted her hand. Scars crisscrossed her hands and arms. Half of them were from her first years on the job. The other half were from my first years as her apprentice.

“Besides,” I quickly added. “I just caused a ruckus when I was on my last trip. Stared at the heavens a bit too long,”

“Earth again,” Lyng smiled. “You should spend some time there.”

“I will,” I promised. “In the off season,”

She scoffed. “When would that be?” I remained silent. Drifters always have something to deliver, swipe, or exchange.

Lyng nodded, for that was answer enough. “Go to Earth, as it is clear you love the place.”

“I can’t just drop everything.”

“Oh?” She said with a smirk that made her look young again. “If you do not, I’ll tell Pi that I have ordered my apprentice to marry my nephew.”

Technically, as my master, she could order such a thing, and sense if I am in this world, so I couldn’t lie. I fumbled for something, anything, to counter her. When the silence dragged on, I finally had to obey.

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