51 Planets to See Before the Universe Collapses

SPaltnia (spahlt-nee-uh)

Scort Muggins, Human year 3252:

I felt bad for Spaltnians. Really really bad. Their planet was beautiful in every way with monstrous mountains, gorgeous gorges, flourishing forests, and alluring alliteration, but they couldn’t enjoy it. They were a sentient plant species that hadn’t yet evolved past the need for roots, so they were stuck in the ground, unable to move for their entire life (See Figure 20.1). It reminded me of Luskem’s leg slowly regrowing the rest of its body, barely able to twitch much less walk around.

I sat down next to a Spaltnian that was particularly salty, but that attitude seemed like the norm for this species. They were all incredibly angry that they couldn’t move, but mostly bored out of their minds from staying in the same spot they were born in. I asked the Spaltnian what it did during the day.

“Play with dirt… toss some rocks… I can’t do much of anything else now can I? … Idiot,” it said.

It also told me that Spaltnians play music most of the time. They put their blades from their own stalk into their mouths and blow on it to create a pitch - almost like a whistle. In fact, all Spaltnians did this, and as a group, they could create incredible music as an orchestra of blade whistles. Though, the Spaltnian I talked to - its name was Pleeft - was especially sour, I think, because it didn’t have an affinity for music and was quite untalented. Just one less thing to do while completely immobile for an extremely long lifetime. [Note: Spaltnians typically live between 750-800 human years.]

Apparently, a few Spaltnians had grown so bored that they dug themselves out of the ground and dragged themselves along the forest floor just to get a different view. But without nourishment from the soil nor a way to soak up water, they quickly died. This was apparently an excruciating death and the species’ least favorite way to die.

As I was sitting and talking to Pleeft, we were both startled by a Spaltnian’s greatest predator: a smerd. [Note: A smerd is a 200 pound beast with four legs and a disproportionately large head with massive molars to grind plants. It has four antlers that intertwine with each other (See Figure 20.2).] The smerd cautiously approached the Spaltnians and snatched one out of the ground, running away with it. The rest of the Spaltnians threw nearby rocks at the smerd, but the furred smerd wasn’t deterred by the stirred, spurred plant herd.

“I don’t throw rocks to shoo the smerd away. I throw rocks to provoke it so it’ll take me instead. Hasn’t worked yet,” my moody Spaltnian friend Pleeft said.

The incurred death by smerd was the preferred way to cut a centuries-long life short by at least a third and have the final word.

I felt bad for these creatures who were so trapped in an eternity of boredom that they couldn’t even enjoy my dope rhymes. They didn’t eat food or drink water in the normal sense, so they couldn’t taste anything. They reproduced by blowing pollen at each other, which didn’t seem to be very pleasurable, especially to Pleeft who was allergic to pollen. Sneezing and copulating were not a great match. [Note: I knew this from my brief love affair with an alien of the feline lady species known for tickling one’s sinuses… and tickling my heart.] It was no way to live. I wished there was a way that I could help them.

I found a large bowl on my ship and rushed back to the field of Spaltnians. I dug up my snarky Spaltnian friend Pleeft and put them in the bowl. I packed in more soil, and we seemed to have a working pot on our hands.

I looked to the rest of the Spaltnians that were now hopeful and happy for the first time in their lives. They were finally going to leave the ground that had imprisoned them for years… but I didn’t have enough bowls. There was no way I could pick and choose which plants to take and which to leave behind. It wasn’t my decision to make, so I took Pleeft and left. I wish I could say that they played a song of orchestral whistling for me as I departed, since I had rescued one of their own, but I was instead sent off with a chorus of yelling, boos, and name-calling.

At least I got a new plant to spruce up my spaceship.

RATINGS

Hospitality — 1/10
Food — N/A
Sights — 7/10
Activities — 0/10
Family Friendly — 6/10
Getting a New Plant — 4/10