Eclipsing Vengeance

by Jeremy Michelson

  There was another race of aliens on the other side of the cell block, far away from the grizzly lobsters. These ones were smaller, probably about the size as me. Except they didn’t look human. They were thin, with narrow, narrow hips that branched out to two, long, muscular legs. From their hollowed out stomach area their torsos widened, becoming thick and muscled. They had two arms sprouting from their shoulders–arms which would have put a body builder to shame. But below those two arms sprouted a set of smaller, less muscular arms that were inset a bit toward the front of their chests. The small arms didn’t look strong enough to do much of anything, but I wasn’t wanting to get near enough to find out. Their heads were narrow, with a large, emerald eye standing out on either side of a wolfish snout. The most remarkable thing about them though, was their skin. Their skin was varying shades of yellow with an iridescent zig zag pattern running up and down their bodies that almost looked like lightning bolts.

  They didn’t shout and make noise like the grizzly lobsters or the Blinkys–who were also shouting taunts at me. No, the lightning bolt aliens were just standing silent, their multiple hands on the bars. They stares almost made me more uncomfortable than the ugly shouts from the other aliens.

  I glanced at the Blinky beside me. He looked bored as he fiddled with his belt. Just another day on the job for him. A sentence to hell for me. I wondered what would happen if I threw him over the railing. It was a long way down. I hadn’t seen any other guards. Was the whole place automated?

  I looked at his belt, while trying not to look like I was staring at it. It was wide and black like Santa Claus’, but where Santa had a big brass buckle, the Blinky had an array of large buttons. Large button made for fat Blinky fingers.

  If I got that belt away from him, would I have time to figure out how to use it?

  And then what? There was probably a ship somewhere. Or ships coming in, like the Stickman’s.

  Which made me think of something.

  “Are there any Stickmen here, I mean Perseus Clan, locked up here?” I asked.

  The Blinky snorted. “Perseus Clan does not commit crimes,” the Blinky said, “They are above such things.”

  I suppose it made sense to have an incorruptible race be the galaxy’s cops. Though I’m sure it put a crimp in some people’s business.

  The Blinky pushed a few more buttons on his belt and the platform jerked and started going down. I steadied myself and watched the cell blocks slide by. More mixes of the three races. Apparently these three were the malcontents of the galaxy, with stickmen and Dons being above the fray. Though it sounded like the Dons put themselves up there through fear and brute force. It was no wonder Buck hated them so much. He didn’t take to no one who thought they was better than everyone else.

  Course, it could have been that whole kidnapping him and messing with his head that made him dislike them, too.

  “What are these guys in here for?” I asked.

  The Blinky looked at me, like he suddenly remembered I was there. What did he think he was doing, going for an afternoon drop into the cess pit of the galaxy?

  He rubbed his face with a thick fingered hand. His eyes did that separate blinking thing that made my head hurt just looking at it. There was so much wrong here that my brain wanted to explode from the sheer novelty of everything.

  “These species are here mainly for blockade running and crimes associated with it,” the Blinky said.

  “Wait, they’re here for smuggling?” I asked.

  The Blinky cocked his head to one side, like he was thinking about what I was saying. “Yes, more or less,” The Blinky said, “This system is under quarantine and entrance and exit from it are prohibited by SixUnion Law.”

  I looked up and down the hundreds of cells we were passing. Most of the cells were full. Hundreds of aliens. All of them caught red handed in a quarantined system. So what was so valuable in our little old system that they’d risk getting thrown in a crappy prison on Pluto?

  I gave the Blinky another sidelong glance. He was fiddling with the buttons on his belt, still looking bored.

  “So why is this system quarantined?” I asked.

  The ugly gray shit actually rolled all three of his fat eyes at me. Made me contemplate throwing him over the platform after all.

  “This system is inhabited by a primitive, non-star-faring species,” the Blinky said. “SixUnion prohibits interference with developing species until there can be a long term threat assessment done on them.”

  “Long term threat assessment?” I asked, “What does that mean?”

  The Blinky didn’t answer. Not that he needed to. The aliens wanted to keep an eye on us. Wanted to make sure the dirty savages didn’t escape from the zoo. I glanced around at the cellblock again. How many of these aliens were tourists, getting a thrill from going to a wild planet? Maybe bagging some local game.

  “How long has this quarantine been going on?” I asked.

  He gave an answer that for a moment made no sense. It wasn’t even in a language that I could tell. Then the words seemed to replay in my head and suddenly they made sense.

  “Approximately forty years,” the Blinky said.

  Recent then. But it was more than that got my interest. He said forty years. A year was a measurement that would make sense only to an Earth person. These aliens would use some different type of measurement. Galactic Standard Time or some such crap.

  I thought about the little blip before I heard him say it. Unfamiliar sounds, then presto-chango, English.

  I turned to the Blinky. “What language am I speaking?” I asked.

  His yellow eyes blinked, one at a time, like the question startled him. “Universal Standard,” he said, “It is the language of commerce and law in the galaxy. Everyone uses it.”

  Including me. Though I didn’t remember learning it.

  The platform ground to stop in front of an entirely empty row of cells. I looked up. Somewhere we had passed the populated section of the prison. The top of the prison wall of cellblocks was lost in the dimness above. Apparently I rated my own section. Or maybe they were starting a new section for Earth people. Lucky me, I got to be the first.

  The Blinky worked his belt again. This time he had his stubby head bent down, looking at it as his thick fingers punched buttons. Something thunked from under the platform. I braced, waiting for it to move again. Instead a buzzing sound rose from underneath us. A moment later a battered little machine flew up past the railing. It was about the size and shape of an ice chest and looked like it had been kicked around at tailgate party from hell. It rose up above us and hovered over me.

  I started to get a bad feeling about what was going to happen next. I glanced over the railing. It was still a long way down.

  “Raise your arms,” the Blinky said.

  “Say what?”

  “Your arms, raise them.” the Blinky said, demonstrating for my by raising his own short, pudgy arms.

  “I’d rather not, thanks,” I said.

  The Blinky sighed and rolled his eyes. Which was really annoying when the thing rolling eyes at you had three of them. He touched a button on his belt and pain lanced up my arms where the handcuff thing touched them. It sent me to my knees. I set there for a moment, breathing hard, stomach twisting.

  “Arms up,” the Blinky said.

  I raised my arms. The flying ice chest dropped down and latched on to the hand cuffs. A second later it yanked me up and I was flying across the chasm toward my new home.

  I took a glance down at my dangling legs. The the cells seemed to go on forever. How many were there? That was about the only coherent thought I had. The rest of the time I was busy screaming like a little girl as every part of my body tried to climb up into itself.

  I don’t like heights none. Bottomless pits give me the willies. Especially when I hung over one.

  A second later I was over a narrow, metal catwalk bolted to the stone wall. The flying ice chest took me to the center of the row of cells. A light
flickered on inside the cell and the bars slid to the side along some track. They clink, clink, clinked against each other like a set of vertical blinds instead of a solid door.

  The door was high enough that the ice chest thing could fly me in the cell without putting my feet on the metal floor. It hovered in the middle of the room. Then it released the cuffs and I tumbled to the floor.

  In a flash it was out the door and the bars slid back into place. They clanged against the stone. A sound that echoed down my soul down to the core. In my stupid youth I had once spent a night in the county jail. I’d thought my life was over at the time, and I almost begged the deputy to let me stay when Pappy came to get me.

  I woulda gave anything to switch places with my young and stupid self right then. Cause apparently I didn’t learn enough to keep myself out of trouble.

  You look after your brother, you hear?

  Yes momma. But who’s gonna look after me?

  I got to my feet and dusted myself off. I wiped a few tears from my eyes–from the alien sewage smell, I swear. Then I took a look around my spiffy new prison cell.

  Eighteen

  Weren’t much to my spiffy new prison cell, truth be told. It weren’t more than ten feet by ten feet and maybe fourteen feet high. There wasn’t no window overlooking the scenic ammonia seas of Pluto or whatever. The walls, floor and ceiling were covered with a gray metal that had a kind of greasy, slippery feel to it. There weren’t no furnishing. No bed, no chair, no sink. And no toilet.

  Plumbing problems indeed. No wonder the place stank so much.

  At least it wasn’t cold. The cell was warm enough that I unzipped my jacket. I pulled off my baseball cap and threw it against the nearest wall.

  A rectangle flared to life on the wall. I jumped back, raising my fists at it. I put them right back down when I saw it was just a picture. The rectangle was about the size of a good sized TV screen. There wasn’t no seam that I could see in the wall where the TV was. Made me wonder what other things the wall might do. Wasn’t a comforting thought. The aliens could have designed those walls to do bad things just as easy as good things. Fact that it was a prison cell made the bad more likely.

  The image on the screen was some weird, roundish symbol on a blue background. As I watched, more symbols appeared under the symbol. I got a sudden, sharp pain behind me eyes. I blinked and slapped my hands to my head. When I looked up at the screen again, chills ran over me. The symbols had turned into letters I could read.

  “What the hell?” I said.

  The letters on the screen read: SixUnion Treaty Enforcement Penal System

  The prison had its own TV channel? Why not? They had spaceships and five kinds of aliens, why not a special TV channel for locked up space critters?

  The words disappeared and the screen dissolved. A Blinky, in what I guess was some kind office, appeared either seated or standing behind a desk. There was something different about this Blinky. It was thick and gray and had the usual three eyes. But on its head were long, flowing locks of purplish brown hair. It also seemed bigger that the the other Blinkys I’d seen. There looked to be four bumps on its chest that were either symmetrical tumors or the dang thing had boobs. The nails on its stubby fingers were neatly trimmed and painted an iridescent yellow. Least, I guessed it was paint. It wore what seemed to be the universal Blinky mode of dress, coveralls. These ones were a lavender gray in color and had some dark purple piping on the arms and chest.

  I woulda bet a rack of Budweiser’s finest that what I was looking at was a female Blinky.

  Then it started speaking and the higher pitched tone of its voice make me think even more this was a girl. It raised all sorts of interesting and possibly nauseating thoughts about Blinkys. It made me wonder if somewhere, at this very moment someone was filming some Blinky porn.

  I got my dirty mind back to the TV screen and what the girl alien was saying.

  “Welcome to the Pluto Incarceration Facility,” she said. She folded her stubby fingers on the counter or desk. Behind her was a moving picture of another Blinky. This one was done up in a fancier set of coveralls, dark green with gold piping and some ornaments on the shoulders and chest. It had a stripe of white hair going over the top of its head and prominent bulges on its chest. Was it the other Blinky’s mother? Or maybe their president? Grand poobah?

  “We hope you will enjoy our stay at the SixUnion Treaty Enforcement Facility. The Pluto facility is our newest and most state of the art construction with cells for over one hundred thousand prisoners,” she said.

  I almost fell over at the number. A hundred thousand aliens. That wasn’t a prison. That was an army. What the heck were these aliens trying to do?

  “Though we do not anticipate filling to capacity, if necessary cell units can be doubled berthed most races, or in some cases quad berthed.”

  A tremor when through me. Two hundred thousand aliens. Three hundred? More?

  “Today I will give you a brief tour of your cell to familiarize you with the basic operations of it. First, there is a universally adaptable sleeping platform.”

  The floor started moving. Part of it, anyhow. I almost fell over as the floor under my right foot went up. I jumped off it and watched as a section of the floor raised into a platform about roughly the area of a queen sized bed. The Blinky on the TV instructed me to lie down on it. I just stood there, looking from the bed and to the TV and back. The TV seemed to be waiting for me to get on, because the image on the screen froze.

  I glanced around, scanning the walls. They weren’t just walls any more. There weren’t no seams, but I knew that something could jump out at me at any minute. I pictured spikes coming out and pinning me to the floor. Or maybe giant saw blades.

  “Please lie on the sleeping platform and it will adjust for your species,” the Blinky in the video said again.

  Oh well, I was going to have to sleep sometime.

  Slowly, ready to jump off at any second, I eased down onto the bed thing. I lay down on my back, my hands clenched at my sides. It was kinda comfy, actually. For a prison bed, I couldn’t complain.

  “The system has detected you are Terran,” the video Blinky said, “The cell will now adjust for your biology and comfort.”

  Something inside the bed started moving. I restrained myself from jumping off and let the bed do its thing. A few seconds later there was support under my neck and head. The bed reformed to the contour of my body.

  Damn it was comfy. Despite myself, I started feeling sleepy.

  That didn’t last more than a second or two, though. The Blinky’s words finally got through to me. …detected you are Terran. The aliens had already programed their prison for humans. It knew us. It could accommodate us. The thought made me shake with fear.

  “The sleeping platform is equipped with stress reducing massage manipulators,” the Blinky said, “Simply say massage.”

  Okay, yeah, I said it. A moment later invisible fingers were kneading my shoulders and running down my back and legs. Oh, holy crap, it was nice. If word of this got out, there’d be people trying to bust into the place.

  “Now I will show you the rest of your cell,” the Blinky said.

  The soothing massage stopped and the bed retreated back into the floor. Left me lying there on a suddenly hard floor. For the next few minutes the Blinky lady made other things pop out of the walls and floor. Including, thank you, Lord, a normal looking toilet.

  There was also a machine that supposedly dispensed food. It didn’t have anything I recognized as food, but I took a few bites of the brown, cake-like stuff and it didn’t kill me. And it made the rumble in my stomach quiet down.

  The nice Blinky lady showed me the entire place then told me I could get the instructions to repeat any time. She told me there were a variety of SixUnion entertainment shows available to watch. After that she thanked me for choosing to stay at the Pluto Detention Facility and the wall went back to being a wall.

  I had to say, it was the nicest prison I
had ever encountered.

  I didn’t have any intention of staying, though.

  Nineteen

  Honestly, I expected Buck to come rescue me. I know I was supposed to look after him, but come on. How was I supposed to look after him when I was sitting in a luxurious, though noxious smelling, alien prison? He almost had to rescue me.

  Once he was done with whatever else he was doing.

  In the meantime, I tried to make myself comfortable. I got the cell to set me up with a comfy chair and a footstool so I could watch the alien soaps, or sports, or whatever the heck they were. Had a bit of a hard time following some of them, even though I was able to understand the languages. There was one show with two Blinkys sitting in a room tossing a red cube to each other. Every once in a while the cube would change to green or blue, then an announcer would come on in a hushed voice saying that Blagor or Nexgix had achieved Hongojonk or some weird crap.

  I convinced the food serving thing-a-ma-bob to produce something like beer and cheese puffs. Then I enjoyed the shows a lot more.

  Don’t know how long things went on like that. It was hard to tell time. The prison didn’t follow any kind of lights out schedule. Basically I turned off the lights when I felt like sleeping. I thought I might have trouble getting to sleep, what with all the racket from the aliens on the upper level. They was shouting and banging things near constant-like. But no, didn’t take long after my head hit that pillow, the bed massaged me and had me so relaxed I went right off to sleep.

  If I ever got back home, I was sure gonna miss that prison bed.

  I wonder how many Galactic Tax Dollars it took to build that lovely facility.

  After a while, I finally figured out I could get the room to put a clock on my wall that displayed Earth standard time.

  It shocked me to learn that I’d been gone from dear old Mother Earth for five months. For an hour I just sat there, staring at it, my whole body shaking. Five months. It’d be spring back home. Was anyone mowing my lawn? They’d probably shut off my electric and cable by now.