by TJ Berry
“I left Earth right after the Catalina Disaster Zone was designated. The dudes who built me were a company of tech guys from Cascadia, called CoSpace. I was the state of the art ship of my time, you know. It was pretty expensive to reserve a spot, and also you had to get through the lottery system. You should have seen my launch party. It was pretty freaking amazing.”
Jenny flew into the hallway where she’d come in. She didn’t see Govvie, or anyone else, following her. She paused for a moment and dipped back into the null, seeing the white glow a few rooms away, down a dimly lit hallway. She headed in that direction.
“After we’d passed Earth’s orbit, a couple of CoSpace engineers figured out that the lottery system was rigged. Somehow, most of the passengers ended up being this gang of corrupt Russians and their families. But at that point, there was nothing anyone could do. They couldn’t redo the lottery – people who’d gotten on already would have lost their shit. There were resentments that turned into factions, and then into all out freaking war.
“The Russians took over the lower two floors of the ship. Not even a year into the trip and people were beating each other to a pulp. It was a bad time. I tried to sort things out, but they turned me off and just kept fighting. And when it was all said and done, the food stores, labs, and greenhouses were locked out. I don’t even know if there are any Shevchenkos still alive down there. Everyone else is up here… eating each other to survive.”
“Unbelievable,” said Jenny.
“Hey, that’s not the way to the exit,” said Actually.
“That’s what I said,” added Mary. “I’m looking for unicorn horn… or really anything Bala,” said Jenny. “Do you know where it would be?”
“I would get out if I were you,” said the Actually. “They’ve been growing mushrooms and I feel like you might end up as some kind of stroganoff.”
“I need the horn. Tell me where to go,” said Jenny.
“I don’t exactly know where it is,” said Actually.
“Jenny, get out of there,” said Mary, upping her volume by about thirty percent. Jenny cringed.
“One bloody second,” she said. “I will not pass up this chance to get a piece of horn.” She arrived at a locked door. The glow came from behind it.
“Actually, open the door.”
“I can’t. Not that one. They’ve locked me out of that system. It needs a manual code,” said the ship.
Jenny examined the keypad. Four of the numbers were grimy from years of use, so that meant only twenty-four possibilities. She started entering them, one by one. The lock buzzed a harsh tone on the first four tries, but it was going fast. She’d be inside in less than a minute. On the fifth try, the tone buzzed louder.
TOO MANY ATTEMPTS – SYSTEM LOCKOUT FOR FIVE MINUTES
Jenny pounded her fist on the wall.
“Damn,” she said. She didn’t have five minutes to wait around for the lockout to clear. Someone would be along to stop her any second now. Unless she could stop them first.
How many people are still alive on this ship?” she asked out loud.
“There are forty-three living souls still on this ship,” said Actually. “In the upper floors, at least. I can’t see into the bottom two.”
“Where are they?” asked Jenny, turning and floating back down the shadowy hallway.
“Most are locked in their rooms. Only nine of them are roaming the ship,” said Actually.
“I can probably take nine people,” said Jenny.
“Oh,” said Actually. “Now there are eight.”
“What just happened?” asked Jenny.
“Someone died,” said Actually.
“Like, right this second?” asked Jenny.
“Yes. That’s why they’re not following you. Someone important died,” said Actually.
A shiver went through Jenny. Before she could ask who, a thudding started on the door nearest her.
“Let me out.” The voice from inside was high and plaintive.
Others joined in the chorus, asking to be freed. There was no way to know if these people were friendlies, but Jenny tried the handle anyway. All of them were locked.
“What’s behind the door with the keypad?” asked Jenny, thinking about the enticing white glow.
“Cold storage,” said Actually. “There are Bala bodies in there and they didn’t disappear. If you’re looking for a Bala item, it’s probably on one of them.”
“Cold storage?” asked Jenny, pausing at the entrance to the atrium. Still, no one was coming for her. She wondered if they’d given up and were just letting her go. That would be easy.
“The freezer where the edible bodies are kept,” said Actually. “It’s a converted cargo hold.”
“Charming,” said Jenny. “That would do it. Tuck anything Bala inside of a dead body and it’s not only a good hiding place but it would still be there after the Summit. Where would I find a weapon to fight of these eight people who are ostensibly on their way?”
“I have to voice my objections to this side-quest,” announced Mary. “Get back on board and we can figure out how to get the item from the outside.”
“I cannot afford to miss a chance at picking up some fuel,” said Jenny. “Without horn, this trip doesn’t happen in my lifetime. It’s worth any risk.”
“Even death?” asked Mary.
Jenny knew she was inviting trouble by even saying the words out loud, but she did it anyway.
“Even death.”
CHAPTER THREE
Bad Luck Blemmye
“Immortality is overrated,” thought Gary Cobalt as a centaur’s meaty fist connected with his jaw. Gary’s hooves slipped backward in the grass from the force. He hit the ground on his knees, grinding mud and grass into his trousers. Someone behind him laughed cruelly.
“I told you not to get involved,” said a yeti stalking around the edge of the rowdy circle. The yeti feinted toward the centaur, claws extended for effect. The centaur whipped her hind legs around and kicked the yeti square in the chest. There was a hollow sound, like a drum being hit with a cricket bat. The yeti staggered back, clutching at his snowy white fur.
“Never mind,” panted the yeti, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. “Gary, you can help.”
Gary scrambled back to standing and raised his hands as if to surrender.
“Stop this,” he said, stepping in front of the centaur. “Whatever disagreement you two are having, we can talk about it.”
“I don’t want talk, I want action,” said the centaur.
“First of all, what can I call you?” asked Gary, trying to coax her away from the yeti. She whirled on four legs, sizing up his unbalanced pair of equine hooves that transitioned into a human upper half.
“I’m Horm,” she said.
Of course Gary had known that already. Abby Horm was famous throughout the Reason as one of the most talented mixed martial arts fighters in three star-systems. Which was why deescalation was critical. What you did not want to do is end up in a guillotine choke with a creature who had six meaty appendages to hold you down with.
“We’ve only been on this planet for six weeks. It’s going to take some time to settle into our new home–” Gary began.
Horm reared up and slammed him in the chest with her front hooves. Gary fell back into the crowd, the wind knocked out of him. Bala fingers reached into his trousers pocket, searching for imagined treasures. Gary’s heart raced. He scanned for a way out of the crush of bodies – this felt like prison all over again.
By the time Gary pushed back into the circle, the yeti had climbed onto Horm’s back, pinning her arms above her head. She bucked and the circle widened as everyone avoided her powerful hindquarters.
“Get off me,” Horm yelled, flailing at the arms interlocked behind her head. The yeti held on tightly.
“What are they fighting over?” asked a neofelis cat next to Gary. She cradled three mewling kittens in her furry arms.
“Who cares?” said a dir
ty fairy with two clipped wings. He spit into the grass with a shower of glitter. “But I’ll bet you one of my molars that the yeti wins.”
As far as Gary was concerned, it didn’t matter what these two were fighting over. Back in the Quagmire Regional Correctional Facility, not-so-fondly referred to as the Quag, creatures had fought every single day over what outsiders would have considered completely insignificant slights. But, in prison, every little personal interaction was magnified a hundred times. Like high school but with hardened criminals. You might be punched for a split-second glance in the wrong direction. Choked for breathing too heavily. Shanked for chewing with your mouth open. The particulars of the disagreement never mattered, just that someone wanted to take out their frustrations on someone else.
Fights were a barometer of tension; an indicator of the state of the community overall. In the Quag, violence like this made sense. Here on their new planet, Gary couldn’t understand how the stress had ratcheted up to a breaking point so soon. To him, their resettlement seemed to be going quite well.
He again stepped in front of the centaur and ducked to avoid her flying hooves.
“Stop. Violence solves nothing. This is a world of plenty. We have enough for everyone.”
The fighting pair came to a stop, the yeti still on the centaur’s back. A few Bala in the crowd murmured agreement with Gary, but many more scoffed and shouted out dissenting opinions.
“I miss the grocery store,” called a small voice belonging to a pixie.
“If I have to clear another fucking field of stones…” rasped a shamir slug.
“There is not plenty of anything here,” whined an angel, whipping a lock of golden hair over his shoulder directly into the eye of a nearby cyclops.
“Hey,” growled the cyclops, elbowing the angel in a spot where ribs might have been if angels didn’t predate ribs. The angel lifted his hands as if he was about to hurl a ball of magic. Gary put his hand over the angel’s delicate fingers.
“Stop. I know this is hard work, but we’re doing it on our own terms. We’re finally out from under human rule. If we work together, we can build a new Bala world greater than the ones we had before.”
The angel pulled away, rolling his eyes in that petulant way that angels always had. Gary wondered what his problem was. It wasn’t as if the angels had the ability to go hungry.
“No one wants a new world, half-breed,” said Horm, twisting her torso and finally shaking the yeti off her back. “We want phones and air conditioning–”
“And our shows,” interrupted the clipped fairy.
“And birth control,” said the neofelis cat, now inexplicably holding four crying kittens.
“And antibiotics,” said a blemmye, wiping mucus off the face embedded in his chest.
“We’ll get there,” said Gary, stepping into the circle and turning slowly to face his citizens. “Trust me. This will be the best thing to happen to the Bala in a hundred years.”
He knew he was right, but he realized too late that he’d also made the fatal mistake of turning his back on MMA champion Abby Horm.
The centaur made a derisive snort and cantered up behind Gary, locking her immense fingers around the back of his neck.
“I had a good job back on Jaisalmer,” she said, pulling Gary off his hooves and dragging him alongside her. “A nice apartment outside of the city. I had fame. I had fans. Hot running water and cold beer. It’s all gone. Now I’m living in a cave on the side of a cliff like in some freaking fairy tale.” Gary struggled to reach the ground. She was showing him off to the assembled Bala like a newborn kitten held by the scruff of its neck.
“Is this what we gave up everything for?” Horm asked the assembled Bala, shaking Gary at them to punctuate her question. “A planet with barely anything edible and creepy shadows that drag Bala into the swamp at night?”
Gary reached up to pry her fingers off him but she only squeezed tighter. He felt his airway constrict. She wouldn’t likely kill him but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. If he’d been a full unicorn, Gary would have been just as large and powerful as Horm. But as he was part-human he could only claw ineffectually, legs flailing like a child succumbing to his bully.
“This is likely anxiety brought on by post-traumatic stress,” gasped Gary. Horm lifted him to her eye level. Her lips were decorated in the particular salmon color of this planet’s mud. It was a touch acidic but made a passable lipstick when the real thing ran out. She brought those lips close to his ear.
“It’s definitely PTSD,” she whispered. “And also, I want to crush things.”
She dropped him into the grass. Gary finally took a full breath and cracked his neck from side to side to loosen it.
“See? I’m sure we can all come to a peaceful solution,” he said, to the Bala nearest him. Except that none of them were looking at him. They were all fixated on Horm. She’d backed up with a smile playing across her face. She lowered her head and pawed at the dirt. Gary raised his hands as she galloped forward and lifted her front half, but she came down hard on his shoulders, slamming him face-first into the ground.
Gary’s teeth sliced through the front of his tongue. Silver blood dribbled down his chin and onto the ground. A few daring souls bent down to scoop up the dusty silver droplets that could heal any wound. Gary rolled over onto his back.
“Please. There’s no need for this. We’re all here to work together,” he said through the thick slurry of blood and saliva in his mouth.
Horm sneered.
“Looks at this wherryberry. Brown on the outside, silver on the inside.”
The crowd laughed. Gary’s near-amputated tongue sealed itself back together with a sickening heave.
Horm backed up and squared off opposite Gary.
“I want a ship with a faster-than-light drive, a piece of horn, and a crew to fly it,” she said. “I’m going back to Jaisalmer to pick up my life where I left it. There are dozens of Bala with me. Maybe a hundred. We’re strong and we’re pissed off and if we don’t get a ship, you’re going to have a civil war on your hands.”
Many of the gathered creatures cheered in agreement. Another group grumbled angrily.
“I told you before, if you go back there the humans will come looking for the rest of us,” said the yeti.
“I won’t reveal your location,” shrugged Horm. “It’s not like they can beat it out of me.” She laughed, clearly amused at the thought.
Gary had seen creatures larger than her succumb to Reason torture. Redworms large enough to eat a starship had died in their custody. She was naïve and privileged to assume that going back was what all Bala wanted. Slavery wasn’t just a nuisance that one put up with for the promise of food and shelter. It ate away the body and spirit. And the effects rippled down the generations like a bell that could not be unrung.
The yeti bared his glistening teeth in disgust.
“You think you can keep us a secret?” he asked. “There is one single planet in the universe where they can find unicorn horn to power their FTL drives and you think they won’t dissect you for the location? You must be pretty stupid to think that they’ll let you slide back into being a celebrity without asking where you’ve been for the last six weeks.”
The centaur’s brow wrinkled.
“But I’m not staying here,” she said, slightly more subdued. Gary wasn’t sure how the yeti was succeeding where he’d failed so badly.
“And I’m not going back,” said the yeti. The circle went quiet for ten long seconds. Gary searched his brain for the right thing to say. What his father would have said. Without warning, Horm reached out and grabbed the yeti by the fur on his chest, dangling him like a limp doll.
“This… place… sucks,” she said, punctuating each word by slamming the yeti’s legs into the ground. Dirt and grass matted his snowy-white fur. Gary stepped in front of Horm, blocking her path. He wrapped his hands around hers, easing the yeti fur out of her fingers.
“We can find a way to–” h
e began.
Horm’s left fist came out of nowhere and crashed into the bridge of Gary’s nose. His vision went red as stumbled back into the crowd. His eyes involuntarily squeezed shut from the pain. The healing blood was already pulling the bones and cartilage back into place, but it still hurt like hell. His mouth filled with more gelatinous blood. He spat into the grass blindly, knowing that some desperate creature would be along shortly to claim it.
“You shouldn’t hit unicorns,” said the angel incredulously. “That’s just rude.”
“Collateral damage,” Horm shrugged, panting from both the exertion and the exhilaration. It had been weeks since her last scheduled match. She dropped the yeti, who rolled onto all fours like an angry animal.
“I understand that you’re all frustrated…” said Gary from the ground.
A shadow fell across his face. Horm’s hooves were again poised to come down on him. This time, Gary closed his eyes and braced for the impact. He was just so very tired.
A voice boomed above the crowd. The group parted and a full unicorn trotted into the center of the circle. He stood nearly a full head above Horm and a pearlescent horn rose almost a meter higher than that.
“What is the meaning of this?” asked Findae, king of the unicorns, trotting around the edge of the circle to push back the onlookers. The yeti got off his haunches and dusted off his fur. Horm offered the slightest conciliatory bow of her head.
“This centaur was attacking your son and I was helping him,” explained the yeti, gesturing toward Gary.
“Lies!” shouted Horm. “I want off this planet and I’m not the only one,” added the centaur. “We want one of the stoneships and enough horn to get us back to Jaisalmer.” She trotted close to Findae. “And there are enough of us that you need to be aware that there will be serious consequences for this village if we don’t get what we want.”
“Is that a demand?” Findae spoke so quietly that the crowd had to stop talking in order to hear him. He stepped back and lowered his head. The point of his horn came close to the centaur’s face. “Are you demanding to return to our oppressors and put every being here in mortal danger?”
