Authors: Ben Bequer
“Who sent you?” I shouted.
Again, the alien replayed what I had said phonetically, coughing up some whitish blood mixed with saliva.
“You should put him out of his misery,” she said, noting that the creature was in pain.
I was about to comply when I noticed a figure moved behind her. I jumped forward, tossing her aside as another of the beasts came at us, a long spear leading the way. The polearm’s missed us by inches. I tried dropping the bow from my right hand, to throw a punch at the creature, but something strange happened to me. Roaring in pain, I stumbled back as a wave of agony bore through my whole arm.
“Dale!” Apogee screamed, but another spearman was on her with blinding speed, putting her on the defensive.
Seeing an opening, my opponent pressed the advantage, and charged me. I couldn’t do anything with my right hand, so I side stepped and hit him in the midsection with a clumsy kick that tossed him into the reeds.
I looked at my arm and saw that the bow had closed upon it, the strong carapace like a glove reaching up to my elbow leaving a wicked spike jutting from my fist. The chitin snapped tight and became part of my arm, and the pain subsided once the process was done.
The spearman got to his feet and came at me again, this time more cautiously. He lunged halfheartedly to one side then the other, measuring my movement for what was sure to be a stab down the middle.
When it came, I punched at the blade with my right arm, the new weapon arm. My fist hit the spear downward, digging the point into the ground. This left him exposed. I spun and slammed a powerful back fist into his chest which sent him flying through the air. He landed with a thudding crunch almost thirty feet away.
I didn’t see Apogee in the sea of tall reeds, and a moment of panicked adrenaline surged though my veins. I snapped my head left, hearing trampled vegetation and the severe crack of a tree trunk. The disarmed pigrilla was trying to batter Apogee of his back, her arms wrapped around his neck in an unforgiving choke. Battering her weakly with its nest of arm-tentacles, it tried to once more back her into the splintered tree trunk. Eyes rolling into its porcine skull, it sunk to the ground and was still. How I could’ve worried about her baffled me. She was better in a fight than I would ever be. Plasma cannons and veiled threats aside, Haha was right, and I was in a shitload of trouble. I consciously tried to hide anything resembling affection as I strode over to her.
She smiled, breathing heavily. “At least now we have one to question.”
* * *
Only Zundergrub could communicate with the captured alien, and with all of the others in the village, so we were beholden to him, and the doctor, prick as he was, relished being our spokesperson.
He was different those days, quiet and detached, spending most of his time speaking to the elders of the camp, a collection of aliens of which no two were alike. In part, it was because he was truly taken with the idyllic nature of this Shard World. From what little background I knew of him, Zundergrub had been an environmentalist back in the day, and I suppose he saw the raw beauty of this world as a potential new beginning, unspoiled by governmental interests or reckless corporations. This place represented his vision of what Earth should be, the embodiment of all he had fought and struggled for. It was strange to think of him as a human being with goals and desires, especially in light of all he’d done, but he seemed honest and direct with the natives. The Zundergrub I thought I knew would’ve taken over the village and murdered any dissenters, like he had killed the workers of that oil rig.
But I think the doctor was also scared. For some reason, his powers had not translated to this world, and he was genuinely worried I might take this opportunity to “finish him.” He kept his distance, surrounded by the village elders, which included a few fearsome beasties that would no doubt fight on his behalf.
The elders were as varied a collection of creatures as the rest of the camp. Only one was bipedal humanoid, a strangely attractive mix between a red-yellow gecko and a fifteen year old girl with a six foot-long reptilian tail. Others included a slushy brain with tentacles and a group of foot-tall, ant-like insects bristling with tiny weapons, and one of the cheetah-taurs. Next to them was a creature with a long, oval shell, like a stretched out turtle standing on its back legs and about six feet tall at the shoulder, with a long neck, almost the same length as his body. Amongst the elders was also the floating bubble with eyes, though whether it was the same one from my convalescence, I couldn’t tell.
Zundergrub sat on the ground with them in a semi-circle, dwarfed by the turtle creature. Though none spoke in the traditional sense, he understood them, or maybe empathized with their intentions. In any case, he spoke for us, and we were accepted amongst them.
Apogee, Cool Hand, Mr. Haha and I sat away from Zundergrub and his committee. We formed around the finished particle accelerator, which was almost ready for use.
“Fucking Zee is going native, man.” Cool Hand said. “I’m gonna start calling him Dances with Tentacles.”
“If he wants to stay, I won’t talk him out of it,” I said eating something provided to us by an alien that looked like a folded over ray with a semi-humanoid head. The food it provided for us was tasty if you got past the fact that it had the look and consistency of a greenish chocolate shake with dried rice in it. I couldn’t get enough of it and the funny looking alien kept it coming.
“This doesn’t look anything like it,” Apogee scoffed, studying the machine.
“I want to get the hell out of here,” Cool Hand said. “I’ll ride naked on a flaming crocodile down a gasoline waterslide if it’ll get me back home.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I slapped him on the shoulder. “The reason it looks different, my dear Apogee, is because we have simplified it and in several places, improved it. In any case, it will serve the same purpose.”
“For all you know, the thing will send us into a world with...I don’t know, a bunch of stick people,” she joked.
I was about to point out that I had seen some aliens that reminded me of a drawn stick figure when Zundergrub came over to us. He jogged, his face flashing an excited smile.
“Let me guess,” Cool Hand said as the doctor joined us, stealing the wind from his sails. “We’ve been accepted as honorary members to the Hoolaa Haallaas tribe.”
Zundergrub ignored Cool, taking a seat and a bowl of the weird food. He ate a few bites using his fingers, letting the tension build.
“So?” Cool Hand said, losing his patience.
“Is the machine functional?” Zundergrub asked.
“You trust these clowns?” Cool said, motioning to me and Haha.
The doctor smiled, not wanting to answer truthfully.
“I came to talk about the villagers.”
“What about them?” Cool shot in.
“These are innocent people, humble people,” the doctor said. “But there may be problems.”
“The Hoolaa Hookaa chief wants Blackjack here to marry their eldest daughter? What the fuck, B? You get all the poon on this ride. That’s bullshit. Your honor, I object!” he mocked.
I slapped his shoulder.
“What are the problems?” Haha wondered.
“Complications,” Zundergrub corrected. “My questioning of the scout you captured led me to believe that he is part of a larger force. A force led by something he and the villagers call ‘the Mist Army’. They are servants of an omnipotent race of beings they call ‘The Lightbringers’. From what I understand, we haven’t seen yet.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Cool Hand said.
“The villagers claim that these Lightbringers are shapers of worlds, the creators of this place. They steal planets from others, or parts of them, and use them to rebuild theirs.”
He pointed up to the destroyed world in the midst of the swirling storm.
“They are an ancient race, more powerful than anything we have ever encountered.”
“Ok, sounds fascinating,” Cool began. “It’s like National Geographic with the native chicks with the long necks and saggy tits. Really cool, Zee. Seriously. But what the fuck do we care what’s going on here?”
“These people are in danger because of us, Mr. Cool.”
“Big fucking deal. I mean, the machine is working, right? What are we waiting for?”
“The Mist Army is led by council of Lords. Blackjack killed one of them earlier. They are going to seek retribution for what happened here, Cool. They will want revenge for the defeat of their soldiers, and these people will pay for it.”
“Hang on a second,” I shot in, losing my patience with Zundergrub. “What the fuck do you mean WE?”
Zundergrub’s eyes narrowed resentfully, but it was Haha who responded.
“We are a team, Blackjack. We-“
“No, no, no,” I interrupted, undeterred. “I saw you and Cool Hand doing your part. Hell, Apogee was throwing down too. But he didn’t do shit.” I was on my feet, striding to him. Someone grabbed my right bicep and I turned to see Apogee holding me back, whispering to me; “Don’t be stupid.”
“Look at Blackjack,” Zundergrub said, emboldened by how Apogee’s gesture took the wind from my sails. “He truly has fallen in love with the enemy.”
I stepped back, letting Apogee corral me back to the machine we had built.
“Like you can blame him, Z,” Cool Hand shot in. “If you had stuck her with me, I would’ve slowed your heart and left you on the moon.”
“You know, Zundergrub,” I started, half-smiling. “By the time any of these guys...” I motioned to Cool Hand and Mr. Haha. “...manages to tear me off you, all that will be left of you is a smear.”
Zundergrub regarded me for a moment, with his worst ‘evil villain’ face and pose, legs spread wide and arms cocked with fists pressed against his waistband. Then he exploded with laughter, which Haha and Cool soon joining him.
“That’s some creepy shit, B.”
I sat down next to Apogee and caught her looking at me curiously.
“Can we continue?” Haha pleaded, moving forward slightly so he was between me and Zundergrub. “You were saying, Dr. Zundergrub, that the Mist Army will return and seek retribution against these villagers.”
He shook his head.
“They’re coming for him,” he answered pointing at me. “They are tribal, primitive warriors, and by defeating one of their leaders, Blackjack has challenged their whole clan.”
“Oh great, did you ever think that guy might be bullshitting you?” Cool said. “I mean, here we beat down some of those soldier guys and now the villagers want us to finish the job. Then THEY can be in charge. Use your fucking head, Z!”
“You’re forgetting, Cool, that I can sense their deceptions, and I sensed nothing of the sort. In fact, the scout we captured was clear in his intentions. And he divulged that many more will follow in the hours to come. They number in the many thousands, and they will all come to try their hand at Blackjack here.”
“What for?” Apogee asked.
“It is a challenge for them.”
Great, so now I had to fight off a thousand-strong army of pigrillas and the taller multi-eyed swordsmen with their manta-ray mounts. The others would just as soon tie me to a post and leave me as bait while they ran off with the machine, but I had a secret in store for them. Something I had neglected to tell even Mr. Haha. The machine was useless at present, due to a not-so-minor detail.
We didn’t have the focusing crystal.
I didn’t know where or how we’d figure that one out, but for now if they tried to leave me behind, I would have the last laugh.
“So it’s some ritualistic thing?” she continued.
“He has defeated one of their great lords. Whoever can kill Blackjack in single combat, will take the dead lord’s place.”
“So what does the village council recommend?” Haha asked, trying to get to the point.
Zundergrub shook his head.
“They are upset,” he began. “They were slaves in this place, forced to give up their crops to feed the Mist Army, but they are allowed to live in relative peace. Now we have shattered that peace, and they fear the destruction that will follow.”
“Not my problem,” Cool Hand said in an almost sing-song voice.
“You would leave these people to the mercy of warlords and mercenaries?” Zundergrub scoffed, standing and challenging Cool.
“Yeah, why not?” Cool said, not worrying much about Zundergrub.
“Well, I intend to fight.”
“Will the villagers help us?” I asked, disgusted with the whole thing.
Zundergrub turned back to the people that ringed us, watching our conversation. “They are not warriors. They are meek, humble people that live off the land.”
We all saw how taken he was by the people here. He was prepared to stay and fight for them, perhaps die for them. It was astonishing to see so much emotion from a man so cold and distant.
“So we can’t count on them,” I continued. “Do they have any ideas of how to fight them? Or anything we can use to our advantage?”
Zundergrub turned back to us, with a big smile and nodded slowly.
* * *
“You can count me out,” Cool Hand spat, once Zundergrub had finished explaining his idea.