Eclipsing Vengeance

by Jeremy Michelson

  I looked up to ask him, but he was gone.

  I spun around, scanning the bridge. “Buck?”

  Blinking lights and scrolling screens and Blinky bodies, but no Buck. I heard a metallic clunk and looked up to see a crocodile skin boot disappearing into an open panel in the ceiling.

  “Buck? How in the hell did you–”

  The ship rocked with an explosion that threw me to the floor. My head bounced off the metal decking and sent stars shooting into my vision. Acrid smoke rolled over me. Something buzzed and sizzled, then there was a huge clang of metal.

  I scrambled to my feet. Weapons. I needed something to shoot with. I ducked through the smoke, feeling my way over the knocked out Blinkys. One of them had to have a plasma blaster or something. I tripped over one of their bodies and went face first to the floor. Again.

  A pair of shiny black boots stepped in front of my face.

  My heart pounded like the hoofbeats of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Slowly, I looked up.

  The high, shiny boots gave way to two legs encased in dark gray pants, a shiny black belt and a dark gray uniform shirt. Atop all that was a blue faced head with tentacles sprouting out the top. Below a delicate brow, orange eyes stared down at me. The face was thin and triangular, the chin coming to a point. The nostrils were slits in a flat nose. A nearly lipless mouth turned up at the corners. The dude–if it was a dude–smelled like rancid cat food.

  “If it isn’t the legendary Buck DeHass,” the blue skinned thing said. It had the smooth velvety voice of a late night radio DJ, “Finally assuming the proper position of subservience to a superior race. What a delight.”

  Times like this, I hated my brother.

  Twelve

  The blue alien had attached his ship to the Blinkys’ ship and cut a hole in the hull to get in. Apparently knocking at the front door wasn’t his thing. I had tried to get away from him, but he hit me with some ray gun that made me go limp as a noodle. He grabbed one of my legs and dragged me across the floor, letting my face bump over everything.

  He took me into his ship, which really, really, stank. It was like a giant vat of wet cat food that skunks had been swimming in and had been left out in the sun for a few hours.

  I woulda puked, but none of my muscles would cooperate.

  The blue guy took me to a room in his little ship–at least it had the feeling of a little ship. Look at me, two alien ships and I was already becoming an expert on them. He strapped me to a table-like thing. The table tilted up so I could see him and what he was doing. He went over to the nearest wall. The walls were a dull silver color. They were smooth except for some barely visible lines. The blue guy’s ship looked much better built than the Blinky’s. It had a feeling of solidness and craftsmanship to it. The Blinky ship had the feeling of some Soviet era truck. Solid, but not much to look at and of dubious reliability.

  The blue guy touched the wall and a drawer slid out. If I had been able to, I would have started screaming.

  The drawer was full of knives.

  He picked out a long, thin blade. It shone like liquid metal. The blade tapered down to a wispy point. It looked so sharp, it seemed to slice the very air molecules as the blue guy raised it.

  “I have been warned that you have a high resistance to pain,” the blue dude said.

  I would have disagreed with him, but my lips weren’t receiving the frantic signals from my brain. The blue alien twirled the blade over his fingers. The fingers were long and tipped with pointed nails. Or maybe they were claws. It was hard to tell. My eyes were having trouble focusing.

  “It is difficult to believe the legendary Buck DeHass could be captured so easily,” the blue dude said, “But then I have suspected the stories of your exploits were exaggerated. How could one pathetically ugly creature like you destroy an entire Don fleet?”

  I woulda shivered, if I’d been able to. Destroy an entire Don fleet? It sounded impressive, even if I didn’t know what a Don was or what kind of fleet it had. Might have been a fleet of go-carts for all I knew. Which woulda made even less sense. Far as I knew, Buck didn’t have nothing against go-carts.

  I also woulda liked to spit in that dang alien’s orange eyeball for talking smack at my brother. Even if it was a case of mistaken identity.

  Except there wasn’t no mistake about it. Buck wanted the alien to think I was him. For what reason I didn’t know. But I did know it wasn’t cause Buck was afraid of this blue asshole. Buck wasn’t afraid of nothing. I just had to hope Buck had a plan. One that didn’t include me getting cut up with this snotty alien’s scary knives.

  “You must have had the backing of another race at the battle of Kalden Seven,” Mr. Blue Skin said. The thing moved closer to me. “And before you die, you’re going to tell me all of your secrets.”

  The blade twirled over his fingers like the worlds smallest baton. If I coulda moved my body I woulda shoved that pointy baton straight up his ass. Assuming he had one.

  The business end of the knife swished through the air, making a slight ringing sound as it did. Back and forth it went, from one blue hand to the other. The blue guy’s thin lips turned up in a wicked smile. He bared his teeth. They were yellow and pointed like fangs.

  Of course they were. The only thing that coulda made it better was if his skin was red and he had horns sprouting out of his head instead of tentacles.

  “I look forward to making you speak,” the blue guy said, “But don’t feel like you have to make it easy for me. Resist all you want.”

  Right then I wanted to cry for mamma. She wouldn’t be no help, though. Well, maybe if she brought that big old cast iron frying pan of hers.

  I noticed it was getting easier to focus on the alien. My fingers and toes were starting to tingle, too. Whatever he blasted me with was starting to wear off. He must have known it too, because his piranha smile got wider. Damned jerk was waiting for his stun thing to wear off so he could start slicing and dicing. And hear me scream.

  A low gong sounded off above me. The alien’s orange eyes went to it, then his delicate brows went down, like he was frowning.

  “Odd,” he said, “The analysis of your DNA says that you are Buck DeHass, but that you are also not Buck DeHass.”

  He took a closer look at me. The knife stopped twirling around his fingers, swishing to a stop. The edge of the blade had a wicked gleam to it. And it was way too close to me.

  The alien said some words in what I guessed was his alien language. Sounded like he was chewing a rawhide bone while trying to whistle. Another voice answered him. It seemed to come from the ceiling. A computer?

  He put his face close to mine. So close the rancid cat food smell of him made my eyes water. I noticed his orange eyes actually had some gold colored rings in them. It made me wonder how he saw things. Did his alien eyeballs see everything in infrared, or maybe swamp gas vision?

  “I can’t tell,” he said, pulling back a little, “You Earth creatures are so astonishingly ugly that I can’t tell you apart. How your species has managed to keep reproducing despite being so hideous, I’ll never understand.”

  I wanted to tell him he didn’t look like a supermodel to me, either, but my lips still weren’t working. They were starting to tingle, though. Maybe in another minute or two I could lob a decent spitwad at the son of a bitch.

  “So are you Buck DeHaas, or not?” the alien asked.

  Now that would have been the proper dramatic moment for Buck to burst into the room and kick Mr. Blue Jerk’s ass. I actually tensed up, waiting for it to happen. Course, it didn’t. Just cause I was on a spaceship didn’t mean I was living in a story. If I had a choice of living in a story, I’d rather it be one of them naughty ones where I get bedded by lots of women. Fifty Shades of Roy, or something.

  I definitely didn’t want to die the senseless death of a sidekick.

  Buck, where the hell were you?

  Blue boy took a couple steps back and rubbed his chin. The knife started twirling around his f
ingers again.

  “I hate uncertainty,” he said, “And I won’t get my bounty if you’re not the right Buck DeHaas.”

  Bounty? Well, I can’t say I was surprised there was a bounty on Buck’s head. Especially if he was going around blowing up fleets of alien go-carts, or whatever.

  The tingling spread out all over my body. It was like ants crawling under my skin. It made me want to jump up and scratch myself with a wire brush. My nose itched like it was under a swarm of mosquitos. I tried to move my arm to scratch it.

  My fingers moved. Through the tingles I could feel them flex. I blinked and focused on the blue jerk. I willed my lips to move and my throat to push words out.

  “Fuuuug goo,” I said.

  Blue boy frowned some more. The knife danced around his fingers. I wished he would miss his rhythm and slice one or more of his fingers off.

  “What was that an Earth language?” he asked, “Are you speaking some obnoxiously obscure human dialect? My translator is capable of rendering most of your filthy speech patterns. Try speaking again. More clearly.”

  I coughed and swallowed. The tingling was starting to die down and I flexed my muscles. It was nice to have them obey commands again. I pressed against the restraints holding me to the table. They weren’t going anywhere, and neither was I. The knife twirled through the air, jumping over the alien’s clawed fingers like it was alive.

  “I said, Fuck. You,” I said.

  The alien got a perplexed look on his face. The twirling knife came to a stop, resting between two of his fingers.

  “There are two meanings that can be assigned to that phrase,” the blue alien said, “The first is that you are requesting an act of procreation with me. The idea is disgusting and intriguing at the same time. However, it is the second meaning that I believe was your intent. Was your intent to show disrespect to me?”

  I coughed again and gave him the best glare I could. “Damn right,” I said, “I’ll disrespect you all day and all night.”

  The alien scratched at his tentacles, then tapped the knife blade against his fang teeth.

  “Hmmmm, that phrase could be taken either way also,” the alien said, “Are you suggesting an act of procreation at lasts a full rotational cycle of your planet, or is this simply an extension of your disrespect?”

  Geez, how hard was it for this guy to take the hint? It kind of took the fun out of things when he wouldn’t see an insult for what it was. I bet if Buck were here the alien wouldn’t be wondering if Buck wanted to get busy with him. Then again, Buck wouldn’t have gotten caught.

  No, he arranged it so I’d get caught. Thanks, bro.

  “I’m insulting you, you dumb ass,” I said, “I’m telling you you’re stupid. And ugly. And you smell bad. Really, really bad. Is that clear enough for you?”

  The alien smiled, showing his jagged rows of teeth. “Perfectly.” He held up the knife. “Shall we get started?”

  “Go fuck yourself,” I said.

  “Anatomically unlikely,” the alien said, “Now, first of all, are you Buck DeHaas?”

  “Course I’m Buck DeHaas,” I said, “How dare you ask that question. Take off these straps and I’ll show you just how, uh, Buck DeHaas I am.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” the alien said, “But I have questions about your claim to be Buck DeHaas. Why does your DNA match, yet not match what is recorded in my system?”

  “Maybe your system is as stupid and screwed up as you,” I said, “Now, take off these straps. Or are you too much of a coward?”

  The blue alien brought his shiny sharp knife up to my nose. He bared his teeth in a nasty grin. His breath was like an open sewer behind a game day football stadium.

  “My race does not fear such pitiful creatures as you,” he said.

  I gave him my best stink eye. “Bullcrap. You’re afraid of me. Afraid of Buck,” I said, “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have me tied down.”

  Don’t really know what I was hoping to accomplish by making Mr. Blue Butt mad. Maybe buy Buck some more time for whatever he was going to do. Which I really, really hoped he was going to get around to doing soon. In the meantime, I kept my peepers on his orangey gold ones and played tough.

  “The Don race is brave, but not stupid,” the alien said, “Buck DeHaas has proved to be difficult to contain in the past. Caution will be used until I can verify your identity.”

  “What, you want to see my driver’s license?” I asked. Then I wished I could have smacked my own forehead. Yeah, in my back pocket was a little piece of plastic laminated paper with my picture on it. And a name that wasn’t Buck DeHaas.

  Fortunately the alien dude just looked confused. “What is a driver’s license?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sheesh, you guys sure are dumb,” I said, “Untie me and I’ll show you what a driver’s license is.”

  “Enough,” the alien said, “I am losing patience. Time for pain to clarify your answers.” He touched the back of the blade to my cheek. It was icy cold. Shivers radiated away from it, running over my whole body. This was it then. I was gonna get turned into bloody confetti. Dang it, Buck.

  The ship shuddered. Somewhere metal groaned. White lights started strobing in the room. The alien dude pulled back. He shouted some alien gibberish at the ceiling. Another voice, flat and monotone, answered him back from the ceiling.

  The ship jerked and a sound of tearing metal when through the air. I could feel the ship tremble through the table I was strapped to. The white strobes turned green and the voice from the ceiling jabbered on.

  The blue guy turned back to me. If his expressions was anything like humans, then something like rage and fear was running over it right then. He clenched the knife and moved it up between us.

  “You are not Buck DeHaas,” he said.

  “No shit, idiot,” I said.

  He got a look that told me he was gonna stick that knife in me, but then then an explosion rocked the ship, throwing him off balance. The knife clattered to the floor.

  The alien voice from the ceiling spoke again, repeating itself over and over in a tone that kinda sounded urgent. The blue alien sprang to his feet and glared at me.

  “I will take care of you later,” he said.

  Then he spun around and ran out the door. A metallic groan went through the ship. The air started to get hazy with acrid smoke. It actually improved the smell of the place.

  I stared up at the ceiling. Other than a square grill where I guessed the voice came from, it was smooth and unmarked. It had to be Buck causing whatever was distressing Mr. Blue Jerk’s ship. The only thing I wondered was if Buck considered me valuable enough to rescue.

  Thirteen

  The blue alien, what’d they call themselves? Don? Seemed like a funny name for an alien. Kind of like calling slobbering, bug eyed, tentacled freaks George or Larry. Run for your lives, aliens from the planet Larry are invading. No, just didn’t strike that right note of terror. They probably need to hire a good PR firm, do a corporate makeover thing.

  I shook my head. The rancid, smoky air in the Don’s ship must have been making me lightheaded. I pulled at the straps holding me to the cold metal table in the Don’s alien torture workshop. They didn’t give. Just like the last fifty times I’d yanked at them in the last two minutes.

  The ship moved. And fast. It felt like a giant hand pushed me back against the table. Like it wanted to squash me flat. Then the ship whipped around. Thew me against the straps. Which still didn’t give none, though I think some of my ribs was about to.

  The knife the Don dropped skittered across the floor. It stopped against my boot. I reached out and trapped the blade with the toe of my boot before it could get away.

  Just in time, cause the ship slung around again like a top.

  My stomach wanted to heave out what was left of that truckstop cheeseburger I had back on Earth, but I hung on to it.

  Something thumped a couple times through the hull. It sounded like the Don was shooting, launching spa
ce missiles or laser whats-its. Whatever it was, I hoped Buck had the sense to keep ‘em off his tail.

  I also kinda hoped he wouldn’t shoot back–if that’s what was happening. I really didn’t want to end up as frozen Roy chunks, drifting through space for all eternity.

  The ship lurched and twisted again. Almost gave me whiplash. It woulda been nice if the dang ship would hold still for a bit.

  There wasn’t no straps holding my legs down below my knees. Just one across my thighs. I craned my neck over and tried to eyeball the straps. They looked kinda plastic. If I had any kind of luck left, they wouldn’t be metal.

  I started working my right boot off. Lucky for me I was wearing a pair of Sorel’s that wasn’t laced up too tight. I never liked tight boots, and now I knew why. My foot scooched out of the boot. Cold air hit my tootsies and they wanted to curl up and hide.

  Not now, little piggies, you got work to do.

  The ship did another hard turn and then a roll that almost lifted me off the floor. My abandoned boot flew up smacked me in the forehead. Which weren’t at all nice of it. I’d taken pretty good care of that boot over the years, keeping the sheep crap off it and all.

  Kind of like the gratitude Buck was showing me right now, making the Don put his ship through some psycho roller coaster maneuvers.

  I hate rollercoasters.

  Somehow I managed to keep the Don’s wicked knife under the tip of my other boot. I lifted my right foot up and dragged it across my shin. The sock rolled off and my naked toes got some air. Which they didn’t like none. Usually when I took my socks off it was to put my feet up by the fire after a long day. I’d sit back in my recliner, beer in one hand, TV remote in the other, and wiggle my toes. They’d crackle with joy at being set free, then take a nap as the fire warmed them.

  Well, little piggies, it was time to finally earn your keep.

  I flexed my toes. I remembered how I used to pick up sticks and pebbles when me and Buck was kids. I was pretty good at it, as I recall. Momma called me monkey toes for a while.