AN ENCOUNTER WITH INTELLIGENT BEINGS

His aircraft crashed into the wood, smashing trees and shrubs along its way. It rolled over on the ground several times, then ploughed into it, and finally came to a stop, leaving a fiery trail behind it. He had to get out quickly because, with such a landing, the explosion was only a matter of time. He didn’t know what to expect outside; the planet was the third one in its star system, water basins could be seen from space, the instruments detected oxygen and nitrogen – apparently it was habitable. He hoped they’d come looking for him. Either way, if he didn’t get out at once, it would mean certain death. 

Crawling out, he heard a ominous sound. It intensified, and before he could get clear of the aircraft, a powerful explosion knocked him out. It was as if his body scattered in every direction, and after the fiery light and the thunder, everything went dark.  

When he regained consciousness, there was a cold sky above him, the air still smelled of the explosion, but it was good enough for breathing. He stirred his limbs and could not believe his luck – he was intact, he could move his limbs - something quite improbable after a blast like that. 

He lifted his head. White fog drifted near the ground. His head was dizzy, he felt weak and helpless, disorientated. He crawled towards where he’d landed, every now and then coming across pieces of metal from his aircraft. Soon he reached the scorched earth and realised there was no point trying to find the rest of the vehicle. Now his only hope of survival was that someone had intercepted the alarm signals he had sent when the crash seemed inevitable. 

Even though it was cold, he peeled off the rest of the tattered outfit that hung from his body and hampered his movements. He stood there almost completely naked. He still wasn’t strong enough to walk upright and so he crawled in the opposite direction - to where the wood thinned out. When he reached its edge, he saw a frost-covered field in front of him: it looked smooth at first glance, but was, in fact, covered with frozen lumps of dirt In the distance, as far as the grey light of day would allow, he saw the blurred silhouettes of buildings.’

He got up and tried to walk, but the lumps, the slippery frost, as well as the gravitation, hitherto unknown to him, brought him down several times. The falls reopened some of his wounds, and he often had to lie down, feeling the pain increase and his energy ebbing from him. His strength was fading fast, he had no provisions. What he was left with was this unknown planet and the atmosphere that was fit for breathing. He would not last long; his only hope was that he would be found by intelligent beings.         

When the explosion had subsided and there was no sound of in-coming airplanes, nor the typical heavy clang of attacking tanks, the camp commander sent a patrol to the place to see what was happening. 

There were five of them, all not much older than boys, blond, with smooth faces not yet touched by a razor. Two of them pulled constantly at dog chains. They strode silently among the lumps of dirt, able to see clearly the smoke that wound above the wood. Their automatic guns rattled against their belt buckles. Without any conscious effort, they walked in step, as if they were marching.

Then the dogs apparently smelled something: they pulled madly at their chains, dragging their masters behind them. The rest followed, clutching  their guns, ready to shoot anything that stirred. 

What the dogs found surprised them all.

Through the pain and the cold that squeezed through his flesh he heard the sound of approaching steps. He turned his head towards the sound and a little later seven figures floated out of the fog. Five of them were as tall as him, they walked on two legs and wore identical outfits - probably uniforms. This definitely indicated intelligence. The other two were hairy creatures, producing  sounds that didn’t bode well. When they came closer, he saw that two of the two-legged creatures held the four-legged ones on chains made of interlocking metal rings. Control over other beings - this signified intelligence as well. 

They surrounded him, one of the uniformed creatures bent over him and blotted out the sky.  

He tried to say something, to establish first contact, but he only croaked something incomprehensible. That’s why he tried to raise himself up. He was sure that luck was on his side again - now that he had come across intelligent beings. A blow followed and again – unconscious darkness. 

Something was lying in the dirt, the dogs were barking and hurling themselves at it, so that they were hardly able to hold them back. The patrol leader approached and bent over the strange man. He was almost naked, emaciated like a camp inmate, but his bones, protruding under his skin, were somewhat more angular. His bluish skin was peeling off in large scales – probably because of the cold. Apparently, he suffered from an exotic disease, because his head was big, his face disfigured, with enormous, protruding eyes and a mouth almost bereft of lips. 

At that moment the wretch gave out a snarling sound and tried to stand up. The gun butt was pointed at his temple and the sudden quick blow rendered him motionless. The rest of the patrol bent down to have a better look at him. 

“I wonder how this one escaped from the camp?” 

“The camp - no way! Surely he’s some lunatic who lives in the woods.“

“Bollocks,  don’t you see what he looks like – he’s from the camp inmates. We’ve got to report him and figure out how he sneaked out. “

“Well, you hit him so hard that now, instead of bringing him in, we’ll have to carry him in.”

They bustled around. There was nothing suspicious except the trail left by the wretch while crawling in the dirt. 

“Listen, flip him over! I can’t bear to look at his disgusting face.”

“This fella doesn’t even look like a man!” 

“Boy, these camp inmates are not human at all!”

“Haha, you bet!” 

Two of them squatted down, turned him over - his face to the dirt - and took hold of him by his legs. 

They dragged him across the field, his head bumping on every lump. The others kept the dogs away from him. The patrol leader walked at the front, looking around constantly. They stopped once to swap roles: those who held the dogs took on dragging the fugitive inmate. 

Time and again he sensed that he was being dragged by the legs, then his head hit the harsh surface and he passed out again. He heard their voices - they talked, and he could understand nothing. He was sure only that they were intelligent beings. That was good, yet they seemed not to understand that they were hurting him, dragging him like that. There was no way intelligent beings would realise that and keep doing it. 

He wanted to tell them something, but he couldn’t because each time he came around, another lump of earth hit him and rolled under his frozen face smashed into pulp. After all these blows he felt no more pain. His strength left him, and the last thought he could grasp was that at least he had encountered some intelligent beings. 

They hauled him to the portal where the camp commander waited for them. They threw him at his feet and stepped back. The patrol leader reported. 

“A fugitive inmate.” 

The commander came closer and gave him a kick. The inmate didn’t stir. He slipped his shoe beneath the body and flipped him over, face up. 

There was no face. 

The head of the fugitive had turned into a homogenous, bloody mаss, bulbous and revolting. 

“Fools! You nearly killed him!” the commander roared. 

The soldiers from the patrol took another step backwards. 

“Now what? Shall I first provide medical treatment for him and only then interrogate him?” Spit sprayed from the commander’s mouth. 

“What about the explosion?”

The leader stiffened. 

“We found this one and decided to bring him to you first.” 

The commander spat on the ground and roared: 

“Off you go and finish your task!” 

The patrol trotted through the gates while the commander glared at the maimed inmate sprawled at his feet. He spat once again, this time on him. 

“Shove him in the gas chamber with the first lot. I can’t waste my time on him as well!” 

He turned around and strolled away between the barracks full of still living, intelligent beings. 

Translated by Hristo Dimitrov / Edited by Tom Phillips

The Bulgarian  text first appeared in ‘Wine for the Dead’, GAIANA book&art studio 2013