Unexpected Encounters

By Andie Kirkdale

Three novellas explore science fiction and fantasy worlds: a family witnesses the arrival of UFOs, an explorer seeks to exploit an indigenous community’s treasure, and a poet in turn of the century Europe encounters new technology and forebodings of war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9781304582515

Book preview

Unexpected Encounters

Andie Kirkdale

Copyright

Unexpected Encounters

Copyright © 2023 by Andie Kirkdale

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 978-1-304-58251-5

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, scanning, recording, printing, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, products, organizations, and incidents are creations of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, products, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover art by Andie Kirkdale

When the UFOs Arrived

The Castle

I am old enough to remember the Before When, the time before the UFOs arrived. Before the end of the Earth’s previous configuration of continents. Before our country gave up its resistance to the aliens. Before we became numbers. Before we lost contact with the gnomes, the fairies, and the sprites of the Earth.

As the oldest, it was my duty to watch over my siblings: my sister Pamela, my brother Henry, and the youngest, Freddie. We lost those names in the Great Re-Arrangement, but I remember them as I still remember mine: George.

After school and on the weekends, we took long walks through the countryside. Constitutionals, as Father called them. He didn’t join us for fear of the gnomes, the fairies, and the sprites. We had no such fears. We didn’t know fear until the aliens came.

One morning the four of us walked through a valley to watch the sunrise.

Isn’t it glorious, said Pamela.

It looks like a piece of lemon candy, said Freddie.

Same old sun, don’t know why you’re making a bother, said Henry.

I shielded my eyes against the light to look at the hills. As a golden ray touched the hilltop, it illuminated the ruins of a castle.

We ought to explore the castle, I said.

Yes, let’s go, said Pamela.

Maybe there’s treasure in it, said Freddie.

There’s no such thing, said Henry. It’s too far away. What’s the use?

Freddie gasped. Look, do you see? He pointed to the distance. It’s a boy about our age. Running toward us. Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.

I looked where he pointed but only saw the castle and the purple flowers and vegetation of the heath. Sorry, Freddie, I don’t see him.

Freddie’s hand dropped. Now he’s gone. I thought I saw someone.

Perhaps you did, Freddie. Father said this area was once magical. In the old days the fairies would gather to play their harps and sing.

Preposterous, said Henry. Don’t be odd like Father. We’re no longer in the nursery. Story time is over.

Even if the fairies aren’t real, I would like to see the castle, said Pamela.

We walked up the winding path of be-dewed green grass and clover and past weather-beaten and crumbling stone walls. Relics left by past occupants lay half-buried in mud and piles of leaves:  a cup, an instrument with broken strings, a glint of a dagger blade.

Behind the walls, the castle rooms were empty save for pieces of rotting furniture and moldering drapes.

Rubbish, said Henry. Let’s leave.

But something moved behind the drapes. A woman stepped out. She was tall and slim, with white hair and violet-colored eyes.

A mountain fairy! said Pamela. I knew you were real!

Welcome to my home, said the Mountain Fairy. Such as it is. It’s only an outpost.

Do you have any gold? asked Henry.

Only the gold that you already contain within, said the fairy.

Henry turned to me. This is why Father turned away from the fairy folk, George. Can’t get a straight answer out of them.

The Mountain Fairy sighed. Your dear father. How we miss him.

Curiosity and manners fought in me. Politeness won. If we have disturbed you madam, then we will leave.

But you haven’t, said the Mountain Fairy. Wait a moment, children. I have gifts for you.

Begging your pardon, I said. But we have read that it’s not wise to take gifts from the Fairies. They’re enchanted.

Normally you would be correct, she said. However, circumstances will soon become unusual. You will need us as we will need you. She made a flourish with her hand and a golden cup appeared in the air before us. First, a device to augment the gifts you already possess. The cup of siblinghood. May your circle never be broken.

I took the cup and admired its ancient craftsmanship.

The fairy then said to Pamela, Your gift is Music. Take care not to lose it.

To Freddie she said, Your gift is Humour. Take care not to lose it.

To me she said, Your gift is Honor. Take care not to lose it.

The fairy considered Henry for a moment and said, Your gift is Humility. Yet you have already lost it. You must find it again.

That’s a poor sort of gift, said Henry.

I think they’re quite lovely, said Pamela.

We thank you, I said and gave Pamela the cup. She placed it in her rucksack.

Your gifts remind me of lemonade, said Freddie.