by Mia R Kleve
Jackson moved to place his hands on the cypress, feeling the texture of the bark.
“Close your eyes,” Bes said.
Rains did, feeling self-conscious.
Bes continued, “Now you feel dat tree. You know what it look like and what it feel like, and if you lean in a little you know what it smell like. You think about everything you read and everything you think you know, and I tell you exactly why it is the way it is. You ready?”
“Yes.”
Bes paused; the silence stretched.
“Because it can’t be anything else; it true.”
Bes put her hand over Rains’ heart. “Be true, Peacemaker.”
* * *
Rains thought about that again as he went through image after image, still not finding what he was looking for. But Bes’s lesson had hit home. Rains was a Peacemaker because it was what he was.
“Uncle Jackson?”
Rains turned to see Sabine and smiled. She ran up and hugged him, her stuffed crab bouncing along behind her. He wasn’t sure when he had become “Uncle Jackson,” but it seemed to have stuck.
Sabine held up a piece of paper to him.
“I made you something!” she said proudly.
Rains held up the paper in the evening light. It was a picture of a cypress, drawn in crayon. Rains snapped a picture with his slate. The image settled onto the badge. As the style applied, the rough edges faded, but the heart shone from the image’s surface. The truth remained. Rains leaned in to hug his niece.
“Thank you, Sabine. This is perfect.”
* * * * *
Matt Novotny Bio
Matt Novotny is a writer of short fantasy, horror, and military science fiction, and he abuses the world of songwriting with Filks. He works professionally in the ARM industry where he has worn a variety of hats including Systems Administrator, IT Project Manager, and Corporate Trainer. He spends any spare time playing RPG’s, backpacking, or antiquing. Matt and his girlfriend make their home in Littleton, Colorado, surrounded by ever-increasing piles of books, creepy collectables, and unfinished home and garden projects.
# # # # #
How to Train Your Canavar by Marie Whittaker
Something large smacked against the pier outside, rattling the old, metal walls. Ceili stopped her staff kata and held her breath for a second. Even the softest thump against a mostly empty warehouse made an obnoxious amount of noise. Dismissing it as a side effect of an afternoon storm, she got back to her workout.
It happened again. Something hard bumped against the side of the beams supporting the time-battered warehouse, the sound radiating through the salt-crusted walls.
She sighed and kicked her equipment together on the mat. The unused warehouse she had claimed for her own purposes wasn’t trusted to house anything of value because the structure was aged and nearly worn through in a few places where it was regularly splashed with sea water. Salty air was another enemy of the thin walls. The iron frame of the structure managed to maintain its integrity, but she couldn’t have some hunk of gods-only-knew-what beating up the pier. It was likely the neighbor kid’s water bike broke loose from its tether again, but she prepped a kayak to go out and check.
Moments later, Ceili paddled through low chop and humidity so thick that she couldn’t tell what was sweat and what was water. Cloud cover blotted out both suns and darkened the surface, which made it tough to see much in the waves lapping against the uprights. She stopped paddling and listened. Thunk. She pulled back on the paddle to turn the kayak and followed the sound until she spied a smooth, black object, the rounded top of the capsule barely breaking the surface amid broken pieces of wood. That meant whatever the debris was, it was going to be heavy. But it was oddly buoyant.
After fiddling at the side of the thing to try to find an edge to hang onto in order to tow it into the interior slip, she gave up and positioned the nose of the kayak against it and began bumping it through the waves. It wasn’t easy. A flat piece of wood floated nearby and drifted against the kayak. Words and symbols were stamped into the soaked wood. Sea lice squirmed all over the thing, so she brushed them off into the water and tossed the plank onto the flat nose of the boat so she could keep control.
Soft rain intensified, coming down in a thick sheet. She dug hard with the paddle to put the object in motion. Sometimes it sank and she had to wait for it to come back to the surface. At least she’d get an ab and arm workout because of it.
One final nudge put the capsule firmly against the corner of the slip, where it rocked gently in the thrust of the waves. After the arduous job, her arms felt like overboiled noodles. She balanced to step out of the kayak and secured it with a strap so it wouldn’t drift off. She tossed the plank with the odd markings onto the deck.
Ambient lighting inside the warehouse made the object seem blacker than black, as if it was absorbing the light. The only reason it had appeared shiny outside was the water coating the top of it. The surface was a sort of matte. Finally, curiosity won out. She put a hand on the exposed surface, feeling arcs and ridges along the exterior. She’d never seen anything like it.
She grabbed a thick net from a pile that was last used years ago when the warehouse was a station for offloading crates. With one side of the net in hand, she dropped into the water, knowing she’d have to dive a little to wrap it up and tether it to the hoist. Dragging the rope under, she pushed through the water next to the thing, feeling for the bottom, but she couldn’t reach it. What the hell?
After several more tries she managed to spread the net below the entire capsule, small buoys tugging the edges upward. Once that was done, she was able to bring the edges of the net together and secure it to a central loop, which she threaded with a large hook rigged to a cable.
She heaved herself out of the water and flopped onto her back on the cool surface of the dock, breathing hard. Dangling from the iron hook above was a pully system once used to offload shipments. It hadn’t been used since she was a kid, but she hoped the mechanics would come to life one last time. She rolled to her feet and retrieved a remote to bring the hoist to life.
The winch groaned into motion, chugging and pulling the cable tight. Once the weight of the object was out of the water, the pully system easily hoisted what was clearly a gleaming black egg from the water.
Excitement and awe tore through Ceili. Being Human and seeing mostly those of her own race growing up, she had studied new species and learned about other races as often as she could. She stilled the crane and stared while water sluiced off the egg. Carefully, she directed the arm to the side and began to lower the capsule onto a pallet. When it had only a few inches to go, the side of the aged net snapped and the object tumbled free, smashing to the floor with a crack. Ceili let go of the control and rushed to catch it, certain it would roll back toward the slip, and she’d be forced to start over. She got a hand on the side and slid to a crouch, only to find the object wasn’t going to roll anywhere. The entire bottom of the thing was spiderwebbed with cracks.
Dammit.
She couldn’t say the smell coming from the inside made life any more enjoyable. No wonder, if it floated with that much air inside. No substance leaked out, but there was a blue-gray membrane showing between the wide cracks.
Ceili stepped back, assessing the situation. She’d apparently rescued a giant rotten egg from the ocean. How would she dispose of such a thing? It smelled worse than the scrap buckets from her family’s fish paste plant. At least it had crashed onto the pallet where she’d intended to set it down. A couple of the wooden slats were busted, but if she brought a motorized skid over from the main warehouse, she could easily pick it up and dump it outside in the plant’s industrial-sized refuse bin to be tossed out.
It was a plan.
She turned to go, sliding her bare feet into more suitable work shoes and was about to leave when a strange sound erupted from behind her. Ceili stopped in her tracks and spun around just in time to see a large part of the eggshell tip onto
the floor.
“Whoa, damn,” she breathed, backing away a few tentative steps. Something that looked like a large insect was curled up on the pallet, the bottom of it still encased in the black shell. One…arm, she guessed, stretched upward, a pincer on the end testing the air. It withdrew and curled up again, snapping back to where many other arms, or legs—appendages—were curled around the thing’s thorax. The head was shaped a bit like a frying pan, with two bulbous, segmented eyes on each side.
She didn’t realize she’d moved toward it until she peered down into the many-lensed gaze of the baby…whatever. It twisted its head inquisitively, the little “hands” moving around, with one of them creeping up where the mouth opened. A soft coo rose from the alien baby as it gazed around the warehouse and put its little pincer in its mouth.
“You are so ugly that you’re kind of cute.” Ceili stared. It was truly amazing something could stay alive, bobbing around in saltwater for an undetermined amount of time. She stepped back as the legs expanded and the segmented body twisted free of the shell.
* * *
Three Days Later
“Must be nice,” commented Gra’dn. Meln, his best friend, sat in front of a map of Krifay’s resorts, planning out a short stay after he made his drop.
“Not my fault you joined the wrong guild,” Meln said with a half-smile. Gra’dn knew his friend merely joked. The two Oogars had decided on different careers in their teens. They still managed to get together whenever it was possible, and that it helped with his current guise as an “undercover” merc was a stroke of genius by his friend.
“And at least you get to check out the sights this time.” Meln circled the coast of the island of Tayah, the destination of his drop, which also happened to be one of the premier travel destinations in the galaxy. “I’m glad to see you taking better care of yourself.”
The mandatory respite imposed on Gra’dn was recommended by his boss. No, not recommended, ordered. Routine physical examination had twice revealed Gra’dn’s stress level was off the chart. He was on strict orders to relax. That was something entirely new for someone who suffered from hypervigilance after some of the more…colorful situations his job put him in. He’d seen things, and worse, to him anyway, done things that didn’t go away. Faces stayed in the back of his mind and appeared when he least expected them. Voices of the dead chimed into conversations where they were not wanted. After arguments and several of his inquiries, checking to see if he was merely being singled out in a company that might play favorites, he finally accepted the assurances that, no, he’d done nothing wrong. Rather, he’d done everything right and now his mind was letting his body know that it needed to reset.
And so, Gra’dn, the hardened Peacemaker, was going fishing.
And not just any old kind of fishing. He was going to learn Earth fishing. Humans had, at one point, been the best in the Union at relaxing. Especially the ones from the old United States. Fishing with a rod that had a string line tied to it seemed to do the trick. Sometimes really bad beer was involved, but that’s where Gra’dn drew the line. He would have good beer while he learned the ancient art of relaxing by fishing.
“Here’s your place, just blocks down the coast from this bar.” Meln pointed a claw at the map. “Happy days, my friend.” He patted Gra’dn on a thick shoulder. “I’ll make my drop and check in after the business is settled.”
“I’m going to catch dinner,” Gra’dn proclaimed. He rubbed his paws together. “I read that Humans populated the ocean with food species from Earth when they immigrated. The tour company is the one that sells Murphey’s Fish Paste.” His mouth watered at the thought.
“That stuff’s almost as tasty as those square meat cans.”
“You mean Spam?”
“That’s the stuff. Smells horrible. Likely dumped into those cans before we were born. Probably isn’t even meat, but man, that’s some tasty vittles.”
Meln began the process of bringing the small carrier ship in, preparing to make contact with the dock.
“I’m going to read for a while,” said Gra’dn. “Physician’s orders.”
“Good idea,” said Meln.
* * *
For as long as Ceili remembered, everything around her smelled like fish.
Her family immigrated the week after her parents married back on Earth. They’d set up a good life for themselves on the water planet of Krifay, settling on the island of Tayah. They were hard working people on Earth and that had paid off during the move. Now, the Murphey’s owned an island resort which was also home base and the manufacturing plant for Murphey’s Fish Paste. Highly sought after, they’d played it smart when creating the delicacy. Only two million jars were created during any one year, making their fish paste highly sought after and very expensive.
Ceili wiped down a display, marveling at the way smashed fish amounted to her claim to fame. At least she got to meet new people of different alien races when she did fishing and diving tours, which was the secondary business venture she’d set up just for herself to break up the monotony of quiet resort island life.
She couldn’t complain. She had it good. Her parents had refused to fall into the same rut as other Humans after First Contact and become mercenaries. Most Humans found that to be their only option. But the Murpheys gathered their resources and struck out. Now Ceili found herself manning the resort desk and guiding fishing tours, a service that was also expensive and highly sought after throughout the Union. She couldn’t believe the amount of credits people paid to go old-style fishing. When not working, if she could call it that, she read and researched about other worlds and their native species. She read about the triumphs of the Peacemakers and dreamed of traveling to new planets to research. She also kayaked a lot and dove almost daily, exploring Tayah’s waters. This had been her life for nearly two years, since the day her parents left her in charge of the business.
Not a bad life at all.
But Ceili was bored with it all. She watched the skies as ships traveled past, wondering if the beings on board even bothered to glance at the little blue gem she lived on. Her parents traveled the Union, bringing in the wealthy as resort clients. Ceili managed the place. Not single-handedly, but she did it with deft precision. From her post in her extremely small world, Ceili dreamed of all the other things she could be doing while she took care of her responsibilities like she’d promised.
The door swung open, bringing her back to the moment. It had to be her morning tour. “One moment,” she called over her shoulder. She quickly finished straightening the display and hustled to the reception counter.
A huge Oogar beamed at her. All fangs and purple fur, he just couldn’t seem to quit grinning. A short-sleeved floral print shirt was buttoned to his chin, gawdy red, orange, yellow, and chartreuse hibiscus flowers screaming random colors. She didn’t know what was more fun, his giddy expression or the way the shirt clashed with his fur.
Yep. Definitely my morning tour. Ceili smiled back. She loved to meet people of different races. “You must be Mr. Gra’dn?” she asked, checking a screen on the counter.
“It’s just Gra’dn. I have a fishing lesson this morning.” He glanced at a name tag on her shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, See-eye-lee.”
Ceili laughed, wondering if his translator was killing it with autocorrect. “It’s pronounced ‘Kay-lee.’ Nice try though. Some people really slaughter it. You didn’t do so bad at all.”
“Got it. Sorry about that. Are you my fishing teacher?”
“I am,” she said, still grinning. “I guess this means you’ve never been fishing?”
“Not once. I’m on strict orders to relax, and since I was in the area with a friend, I signed up.” Gra’dn clapped his paws together, rubbing them in excitement.
Ceili stared at his very Human gesture. And those were quite the mitts. Teaching him to fish might be a trick if he wasn’t dexterous with the line.
“Well, you look like you’re ready to go. I need to con
firm your ID and lock our destination into the system.”
Gra’dn pulled two credential cards from a pocket. Ceili’s eyes went wide. “You’re a merc!”
He laughed. “Is that a problem?” He guessed she would have freaked twice as hard if she learned he was really a Peacemaker.
“No, not at all. I mean…” Her eyes betrayed her by looking straight at the screaming shirt he wore. “I just never would have suspected—”
“Doctor’s orders,” he said. He gestured up and down the shirt with a purple paw. “Relaxing.” He winked and clicked his tongue at the same time.
Ceili nodded. “Okay then. Let me grab my daypack and we’ll get started.” She confirmed the trip, led him out of the office, secured the entrance, and they were off.
* * *
“Anyway, the stress gets to a guy, you know?” Gra’dn looked anxiously to the spot he’d cast his bait. He’d spent most of the morning blabbing about work and his health, and how life as a merc contributed to his current state and location, carefully interchanging the word “merc” for “Peacemaker.” He’d been careful not to get too into the gory details, but even a seemingly soft Human like Ceili certainly suspected he’d seen some nasty shit go down. Figuring it was past time to shut up, he took a deep breath and feigned interest in two birdlike animals passing overhead.
“Pull in your slack,” Ceili prompted. “You have to keep the line lively.” She readied her own rig, baiting another hook.
“Sorry for the blather. I guess I haven’t been getting out much. I mean, I get out a lot but not around normal people. I mean, not normal. Or…” He grimaced.
