Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet

by Matthew Kadish

  Occasionally, they would run into what Green identified to be an access panel to the ship’s systems. Unfortunately, decoding the Deathlord’s language proved just as complicated as the Professor thought it would be.

  Green had to mess around with the system to try to get to its base computer code in order to decipher it from the ground up. After all, when one boils all computer languages down to their core, they’re just a bunch of ones and zeroes.

  But of course, just as it seemed Green would be getting somewhere, Shepherd would spot a group of Deathlords approaching, and they would have to abandon the console and spend time searching for another one, only to have to start the whole process over again.

  Each setback put Shepherd even more on edge. The longer they took, the greater the likelihood the Deathlords could discover them, and the greater the likelihood the Deathlords could harm Anna (if they hadn’t already).

  After a few hours of evading the Deathlords while searching for a new console to access, the two finally found what seemed to be some sort of engineering room with a computer console tucked away from any direct line-of-sight to the entrance. Here, they would be able to hide if any Deathlords entered, and they’d be out of sight from any stray soldiers wandering around in the corridors. Large pipes and generators hummed monotonously throughout the room and would disguise any noise they made. It was the perfect place to do what they needed. Since the coast was clear, they both deactivated their hologuises and got to work.

  As Green began tinkering with the panel, Shepherd stood watch. He tried to calm himself, but internally he was greatly worried. He wondered what was happening to Anna. He cursed himself for letting her be taken in the first place. He did not know why the Deathlords wanted her, but he did know that their reasons could not be good. And the longer she was away from him, the more danger she was in. He didn’t even want to think about what might have happened to Jack.

  Meanwhile, Green hummed cheerily (a habit of the Professor’s, which irritated Shepherd to no end) as he worked his way through the console and the Deathlord’s programming language. The Professor worked tirelessly for hours, trying to crack the language while Shepherd was forced to stand aside and feel useless.

  Time to think was not what Shepherd wanted at that moment. All he could see in his mind were the many possible ways the Deathlords had for torturing Anna, and he secretly cursed Green for taking so long to figure out the Deathlord’s systems even though he knew what the Professor was doing was incredibly complicated.

  Finally, Green smiled and spoke up.

  “Ah-ha!” said the Professor cheerily. “I think I’ve cracked it!”

  “You can read it?” the Paragon asked hopefully.

  Green nodded. “Not fluently, but I’m able to get the gist of it. Once I was able to figure out the vowels and numbers, the rest somewhat fell into place. I think I know enough to be able to figure out what systems to access now.”

  “Good work, Professor,” said Shepherd, eager to get going.

  “I must say, I could probably spend a couple of years studying this language,” said Green. “It is incredibly complex. It rather reminds me of the syntax used in Greater Halcyonian, only without all the male-female tenses—”

  “As long as you can find what we need,” interrupted Shepherd. “That’ll do for now. What can you access?”

  “Well, let’s see, shall we?” smiled the Professor.

  Green began to tap a few keys on the console, the screen before him updating with each keystroke. Shepherd tried to decipher what was going on but the language made no sense to him at all. He only hoped Green could make something of it.

  “Curious,” said Green.

  “What is it?” inquired Shepherd.

  “Oh, nothing,” said the Professor whimsically. “It’s just that the more I learn about these Deathlords, the more questions spring to mind.”

  At that moment, Shepherd didn’t care a lick about the Deathlords. All he wanted was to know where Anna was being held and what the quickest way to get to her was. “Focus on the Princess and Jack, Professor,” reminded Shepherd.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I am,” said Green. “There’s just so much that’s hard to ignore, though. For instance, don’t you find it odd that a race of sentient non-organic beings such as the Deathlords maintain full life support on their ships?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Shepherd.

  “Heating, oxygen, all of the elements needed to support life are fully enabled on this vessel, and yet by no accounts do we believe the Deathlords need any of these things to survive. It’s as if the ships are meant to be habitable to living beings, and lots of them. But why?”

  “Those are questions better left for another time,” said Shepherd. “Right now, I don’t care about anything other than finding the Princess.”

  “Yes, yes, your single-minded focus is admirable, my friend,” said Green. “But considering we have learned more about the Deathlords in the past few hours than the entire Empire has learned in the past twelve years, I would say someone should start caring.”

  “The information is only valuable if we can share it with someone off this ship,” said Shepherd. “And we’re not getting off without the Princess and Jack. So table your questions for now and work on finding them.”

  “Working, I am,” said Green cheerily. “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve just figured out how to access the ship’s schematics and sensor logs.”

  “Finally,” breathed Shepherd. “Can you determine where they might be holding her? Any detention centers? Or some sort of brig?”

  “Hmmmmm,” said Green as he scanned through the data on the console. “This is certainly odd…”

  Shepherd didn’t like the sound of that. “What?” he demanded.

  “The schematics for this ship… they are quite… weird,” the Professor replied.

  “Weird in what way?”

  “Well, normally, ship design has to meet certain engineering parameters,” said Green. “For instance, if you were building a ship for atmospheric flight, you’d have to take certain factors into account that wouldn’t be necessary for a ship that’s strictly meant for space travel. Not to mention that most vessels are designed for symmetry and practicality, things like that.”

  “What of it?” asked Shepherd.

  “Well, this ship… despite what it looks like from the outside… is a complete mess.”

  “Get to your point, Professor,” Shepherd sighed.

  “My point is – it seems this ship is man-made based on the areas we’ve been in, such as the hangar bay and the corridors, all of which are made up of metal and electronics. But according to these schematics, a great deal of this ship is comprised of rock, and brick, and clay.”

  Shepherd raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked.

  “It’s almost as if the ship were built around some type of terrestrial structure,” clarified Green. “And a big one at that. See this here?”

  Green pointed to a large oval portion of the Deathlord mothership’s schematic readout at the console.

  “There seems to be a rather large area at the very center of the ship constructed from such material. It’s massive, miles and miles in diameter in fact.”

  “At the risk of sounding like a broken recording,” said Shepherd, “what does any of this have to do with finding the Princess and Jack?”

  “This impacts our search because the areas of the ship that are not constructed of advanced materials do not contain sensors,” said Green. “If the Princess or Jack is in any of these areas, we may not be able to find them.”

  More great news, thought Shepherd grumpily. “Well then, focus on the areas we can get readings on. See if we have any hits there. If not, then we’ll have to worry about checking out these brick-and-mortar portions of the ship manually.”

  Green tapped a few keys on the console and grimaced.

  “Blast it,” he muttered. “It would appear the Deathlords do not place much stock in tracking lif
e sign readings.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Their ship’s internal sensors are set up to monitor energy signatures unique to the Deathlords, not life signs unique to living beings,” said Green. “We can’t pinpoint the Princess based on her vitals I’m afraid.”

  “Can you reprogram it to find what we need?” Shepherd asked.

  “If I had a few weeks and a better understanding of the language, maybe,” replied Green.

  Shepherd grunted. It can never be easy, can it? he thought.

  “The scanners…” said Shepherd. “They can tell us where the Deathlords are?”

  “Indeed,” smiled Green. “That’s not a problem. What are you thinking, dear Paragon?”

  “Show me where all the Deathlords on the ship are right now,” Shepherd said.

  Green tapped a few buttons, and various blips appeared on the schematic layout of the ship. Shepherd glanced over the placement of the dots before settling on one group in particular.

  “There,” he said, pointing at a small room with two energy signature dots in front of it. “That’s where we’ll find the Princess.”

  “What makes you think she’s being held there?” asked Green.

  “Two Deathlords standing stationary outside a small room,” said Shepherd. “Looks like guard duty to me.”

  Green smiled. “Well, I’ll be. Simple, yet effective. Bravo, dear Paragon. Shall we be on our way then?”

  “No,” said Shepherd. “I need you to continue monitoring the Deathlord’s systems. If I’m wrong, we may not have time to access them again before they’re alerted to our location. I need you to be my eyes while I attempt the rescue.”

  Green twiddled his fingers. “Ah… is it wise to split up?” he asked. “I’m afraid I may not be of much use if I’m captured.”

  “Wise? Probably not,” admitted Shepherd. “But necessary. Based on what we’ve seen, this ship is too big and difficult to navigate from the inside. I need a guide to get me to where I have to go. If you can track the Deathlords, you can make sure I can steer clear of them after I’ve found the Princess and can lead us to a rendezvous point. Worst case scenario you can help me avoid capture if I’m discovered.”

  Green nodded. “Our emergency comm units should go undetected until the Deathlords think to scan for them. Even then, it may take them a while to find the right frequency. And I do suppose I could use the time to learn more about the Deathlord’s technology…”

  Green trailed off as he was speaking. Shepherd could tell something was bothering him.

  “But?” asked Shepherd.

  “I’m… ah… rather frightened of being on my own,” said Green sheepishly. “This place is quite scary, you know.”

  Shepherd smiled softly. “I know, old friend,” he said, putting his hand reassuringly on Green’s shoulder. “But I need you to be brave, for the sake of the Princess. I would not ask this of you if I did not think it were necessary.”

  “I know your logic is sound,” said Green. “But shootouts, space chases, and sneaking around on an enemy ship… I’m a Trundel of science, not adventure. I’m afraid all this is quite out of my league.”

  “You’ve been doing fine with it so far,” said Shepherd.

  “Because I’ve had no other choice,” said Green.

  “Heroes are born from necessity, Professor. Not choice.”

  Green sucked on his lower lip nervously. “If that’s the case, being a hero is far less glamorous than I ever imagined it to be.”

  Shepherd nodded. “It typically is. But look at it this way,” he said. “Once we get out of this, you’ll have one heck of a paper to write.”

  Green’s eyes lit up. “Indeed,” he smiled. “Why, I could probably do an entire series based on their language alone! I mean, sure it would only be about vowels and numbers, but still… it might even get published in the Valghana Quarterly! Could you imagine?”

  “I can,” replied Shepherd. “But first, we need to get the Princess, get Jack, and get the hell out of here.”

  Green nodded. He took a deep breath to find his courage. “If I’m monitoring Deathlord movement, I’ll be able to tell if there are any headed for my position,” he said. “I may need to switch consoles to avoid detection at some point.”

  “Do what you must to stay safe,” said Shepherd.

  “You, too, dear Paragon,” Green responded. “And good luck. I’ll do my best to lead you in the right direction.”

  Shepherd nodded and took one last look at the schematics to figure out the best way to get to his target. Then he reactivated his hologuise and headed out the door, leaving the Professor alone in the room with nothing but his console and the monotonous hum of the generators.

  After Shepherd was gone, Green looked around the cold, metal room of the Deathlord mothership and gulped nervously.

  “I just hope my best is good enough,” he muttered to no one in particular.

  Chapter 25

  The moans echoing throughout the Pit set Jack’s teeth on edge. The sounds reverberated off the walls and seemed to linger in his ears even longer than they had when he’d first arrived. He was desperate to talk to someone – anyone – about anything just so he wouldn’t have to focus so much on those horrible noises.

  But each time he tried to start up a conversation with Scallywag or Faruuz, they’d just shut him down and tell him to be quiet. They’d talked with him for a bit before the last group of zombies jumped out of nowhere and attacked. One of them had managed to rip out the throat of a Regal soldier named Coakly before being put down, and after that the entire group seemed to be on edge and opted to move in silence.

  They traveled in single file, weapons at ready, with Jack up toward the front leading the way. Grohm stayed slightly ahead of Jack to make sure he was protected, and for the most part Scallywag and Faruuz were right there with him. Major Ganix took up the rear. Overall, no one wanted anything to happen to Jack, since he was the only one who knew where the heck they were headed.

  As they walked, Jack kept looking at his surroundings. Nothing seemed familiar at all, and yet somehow there was a map in his mind that told him exactly where he was. How that worked, Jack had no idea. He just hoped the map didn’t suddenly disappear and leave him stranded in the middle of nowhere.

  For now, the map was there, and Jack kept walking in the direction it was telling him to go, with the others following close behind.

  “Are we almost there?” Scallywag muttered.

  “Yeah, it’s just a bit further,” said Jack.

  “You said that an hour ago.”

  “And I was right an hour ago,” replied Jack. “Not so witty when it’s used on you, huh?”

  Scallywag cracked a smile. “Anyone ever tell ya, you can be an annoyin’ little browner, Earthman?”

  “Nope,” said Jack. “You’d be the first.”

  “Anyone ever tell ya, if this exit of yers turns out not to exist, yer gonna get shot right in the face?” grumbled Faruuz.

  “Nope,” replied Jack.

  “Well, ya just were,” snarked Faruuz. “Right now. By me.”

  “Well then, if the exit does exist, I get to shoot you in the face,” said Jack.

  “What?” said Faruuz. “No you don’t.”

  “Seems only fair,” said Jack. “Since you’re the one threatening to shoot me and all if I’m wrong, I should get to shoot you if I’m right.”

  “Lad’s got a point,” chimed in Scallywag, smiling. “It’s only fair.”

  “What? No it ain’t!” replied Faruuz. “Whose side are ya on?”

  “No one’s side,” said Scallywag. “Just pointing out that ya got a fifty-fifty chance of not getting shot in the face, is all.”

  “Oy, no one’s shooting anyone!” insisted Faruuz.

  “Great, glad we cleared that up,” said Jack.

  Faruuz blinked at Jack. “But… no… I…”

  “Too late, we can’t shoot each other,” said Jack. “Argument over.”


  Faruuz scowled. “Stupid Earthman,” he grumbled, opting to nurse his bandaged arm with only a modicum of self-pity.

  Suddenly, Grohm stopped, standing tense and alert, gazing out into the darkness. Scallywag and Faruuz instinctively lifted their weapons as the rest of the convoy halted and reacted the same way.

  “What is it?” whispered Scallywag. “Ya see something, Grohm?”

  “Regals,” Grohm snorted.

  Major Ganix strode up to the front with Sergeant Rodham in tow, torch in hand. “With me,” he said, as he passed by Grohm. Scallywag and Faruuz followed, with Jack tepidly bringing up the rear.

  As they moved forward, Jack could see some figures hunched over by an outcropping of rocks. There were two of them, sprawled out awkwardly on the ground. As they got closer, Sergeant Rodham’s torchlight bathed the scene with illumination, showing the bloody remains of two Regal soldiers.

  “It’s Ferris and Hoyle,” said Rodham. “What’s left of them, anyway.”

  “Blast it,” cursed Ganix.

  Jack looked away from the bodies. The sight of them made his stomach queasy. He’d seen plenty of dead bodies on TV shows and movies, but seeing the real thing (not to mention smelling it) was something he didn’t think he’d get used to anytime soon.

  “This yer other scouting team?” Scallywag asked.

  Ganix nodded. “I guess I was holding out hope they may have still been alive,” he said.

  “You should learn not to hope,” replied Scallywag.

  “Seems like they didn’t find much else besides zombies,” commented Faruuz as he poked around the bodies. “Don’t see any swag around ‘em.”

  “Get away from them,” growled Rodham.

  “He’s just checking for anything we can salvage—” said Scallywag.

  “Slag your salvage,” snapped Rodham. “And slag you. These were good men.”

  “These are dead men,” replied Scallywag.

  “Care to join them, pirate?” Rodham sneered.

  “Enough,” said Ganix sternly, shooting a hard look Rodham’s way. The Sergeant kept his mouth shut but continued to stare down Scallywag, who didn’t seem willing to retreat from their silent eye-war either.