The Chronicles of Clyde: Unafilliated

by F. E. Arliss

  When the Idolum General Shale had tried to sell the highly gifted energy-worker for her ability to sustain an Idolum’s life with her energies, she’d turned on him and been adopted into a nest of Idolum who had lost their queen in battle.

  The whole story was mostly unknown, but somehow the human had become an extremely powerful Idolum queen known as Queen Altum Juls. She exposed the fact that the famed General Shale had murdered her predecessor, Queen Altum Vis.

  The Idolum clans had been in chaos. The nests that followed Queen Altum Juls believed in the sanctity of life for those who fed them, thus never killing their sources of energy.

  Many of the other nests could not abide following a part-human queen and rose against the others, trying to murder the mate of Queen Altum Juls, a General Freux, at a meeting place set for peace talks.

  After a bombardment of her home planet, Geboren, by the Intergalactic Guard, Altum Juls was lost for over three years. When she did return, she was once again transformed, this time into something called an Osmir, an advanced species that commanded the energy of the ethers at will.

  Gathering her faithful to her, she had wreaked vengeance on those who had betrayed her and her allies. Queen Altum Juls now ruled a huge portion of the Idolum Empire. She was the Queen they were going to meet.

  It was a great story and the crew asked Commander Quirke to tell it over and over. He also brought up the few snippets of vid-stream that the Intergalactic Authority had on Queen Altum Juls and her nest. It was riveting! They all looked forward to meeting her, albeit with more than a little trepidation as well.

  Three weeks later, the Clyde dropped out of warp into the atmosphere of a strangely-chaotic system. It wasn’t even marked on the star maps. A huge dusty, mud-tan ball of a planet ringed with space trash, took up one side of the system. Ice and large chunks of space meteorite floated and spun crazily everywhere in an erratic ballet, forming a natural defensive grid. Occasionally a chunk of ice would hit the atmosphere of the desert planet and cause an explosive display of fireworks and rain.

  According to their coordinates, the moon they were looking for was behind the desert planet. It would take them several hours to safely circumnavigate the space debris to reach it. Birdie was at the controls, a look of utter concentration on her face as she maneuvered Clyde through the randomly spinning junk.

  When they were within hailing distance, Arc opened a channel, broadcasting on the exact frequency given them by Captain Kelty on Renegar. “Idolum outpost, please acknowledge. This is First Mate Arc Copperfield of the independent cargo hauler Clyde. We are in orbit and require landing coordinates. Please acknowledge,” Arc said, wondering if she’d just signed her death certificate.

  Captain Kelty said that even though they were bonded, insured, and had an excellent reputation, the Idolum would be most concerned with their registration as an ‘independent hauler’ -- meaning they had no allegiance to the Intergalactic Guard or any other established government. Since that would have seriously cramped Commander Quirke’s style, he hadn’t been affiliated with any government for the last twenty years, and neither had any of his family. So, no worries there. Being an eccentric kook had its advantages.

  “Cargo hauler Clyde, this is Idolum Outpost Alpha, you are free to land at the transmitted coordinates. Please land and lower your ramp for inspection. We will be with you shortly,” came the slightly whirring, strange-sounding voice. “Be advised that no weapons are allowed.”

  “Acknowledged,” Arc returned. “Initiating landing protocol. Clyde out.”

  As Birdie maneuvered Clyde towards the coordinates for the landing zone, Arc, Quirke and Dag watched the approaching moon intently, riveted by curiosity. The moon was beautiful, a blue-green ball of life, growth and water. Close to the landing zone, a horrendous crater of destruction could be seen where an aerial bombardment had obliterated everything in its path. It wasn’t possible to guess what had been there, so complete was the devastation.

  Sitting Clyde down in the large, open savannah the coordinates had indicated, Arc checked for contaminants. A bombardment like that could leave some nasty residue. The readings were nominal though. The Idolum had done a good job of cleaning up after the destruction. The air was good.

  Lowering the ramp, Arc followed Commander Quirke to the bottom. Breathing deeply, they grinned at each other. The air was wonderful. Scented with grass, dirt and some other perfume they couldn’t identify. It was almost like Earth had been before its destruction.

  Arc felt a lump grow in her throat. If the sheen in Quirke’s eyes was anything to go on, he was feeling the same thing. Homesickness. This moon was very similar to Earth. It made Arc want to cry.

  Three hover bikes approached. The first held a woman and the following two, were what Arc assumed were some type of Idolum. The woman was hugely tall. Her long legs dangled to each side over a meter below the frame of the large hover-cycle. Long wavy, white-blonde hair whipped in the wind.

  She was dressed all in black. When she dismounted gracefully from the cycle, she stood easily three meters tall. A nine-foot woman. Holy shit, Arc thought! Now that was a woman! A cryptic tattoo graced the center of her forehead and a large, buff-colored, speckled cat-like creature jumped to the ground beside her.

  She was followed by two Idolum black-armor clad men that Arc would later learn were called ‘mites’ or, in other words, Idolum worker clones. Each carried a formidable looking energy weapon and though tall, at around seven feet, paled in comparison to the elegantly tall and impressively muscled woman.

  Striding forward, the woman offered her hand. “I’m Queen Altum Juls. Welcome to Geboren, our home,” she said, smiling.

  Her voice was human. Deeper than most women’s, but definitely free of the strange whirring that the voice on the comms had contained.

  Quirke took her hand, raised it to his lips, and to Arc’s astonishment, bowed from the waist and kissed the back of it. “My Queen, a pleasure to meet you,” he said, over her elegantly, long-fingered hand. Arc simply gaped. What the hell had come over Quirke?

  “I’m delighted that you accepted our contract,” the Queen said gravely. “Captain Kelty has an infallible gift for spotting honor in all its forms. She speaks highly of yours and that of your crew. Don’t ask me how she knows, it’s her own special brand of magic that tells her. It is a mystery to the rest of us.”

  “I’m glad we could be of service, my Queen. My First Mate, Arc Copperfield,” Quirke replied, flapping one boney wrist in Arc’s direction.

  Arc finally got her expression under control and snapped, to her astonishment, a slight bow in the Queen’s general direction. “Queen Altum Juls,” she said quietly, “Your moon is very like Earth. It has struck a chord of homesickness in me. Please forgive my lack of manners.” Arc said this as a way of excusing her stunned silence of the moments before.

  “It is very like Earth, isn’t it?” The Queen murmured. “I’m deeply grateful for its existence. And that the Intergalactic Guard didn’t completely destroy it during the bombardment. It has taken us several years, but it is returned to its previously unpolluted state. All that is missing is a herd of hippolytes to bring it back to life.”

  “We are very excited,” she said and gestured to a fast-approaching line of Idolum warriors. They trotted in formation towards the landing zone. Each long-limbed male carried a large halter with a long, grass-twined rope.

  “Our warriors bond with a hippolyte and stay with it for the duration of its life. They have a symbiotic relationship. The hippolytes give energy to the warrior and the warrior sees to its health and that of its offspring. Their waste products feed the land back to richness. We have missed their presence very much,” she added, a catch in her voice. “Please, will you lower the gates and let them come down to their new pastures?” the Queen asked Quirke eagerly.

  Quirke turned and motioned to Cole and Coates. The gates were dragged out of the way. Dag appeared at the door leading a now, too-large-to-carry Izzy. She was
adorned with purple toenails tipped in gold glitter. A large paper rose in a florid color of magenta adorned one large, floppy ear and a paper-chain of gaily printed fabrics adorned her still baby-fat wrinkled neck.

  As they disembarked, the rest of the herd meandered down the ramp and soon fanned out chomping happily at the lush forage lining the valley floor.

  Ben came over to Arc and bumped her from behind. Quirke’s large scarred male, Rex, hovered at his left shoulder, chuffing loudly.

  “As you can see, we’ve made some friends,” Quirke said cautiously. “We’re quite fond of some of the herd. They do seem to take to certain people and want to be with them.”

  “Oh wonderful! That’s why you’re so perfect for this run, and perhaps future ones as well,” the Queen said thoughtfully. “You either love the hippos or you don't. Those that don’t, probably aren’t the type of people we want to trust here on Geboren. The hippos are integral now to our way of life, as you can see,” she added looking over her shoulder.

  The black-clad Idolum warriors had fanned out and stood quietly on the fringes of the herd. As the animals grazed, the herd clumped then parted in a dance of random attraction. Soon, each warrior had a hippolyte bumping against them seeking attention. The hippos had chosen their keepers.

  As the warriors worked with each hippo, the halters were put on, left for a few moments then taken off. The Idolum stroked and murmured to the animals, then marked the forehead of the one that had chosen them with the small symbol of each warrior. Slowly the munching herd moved away. They’d be back.

  Dag stood forlornly looking after a reluctantly departing Izzy. She stopped at the crest of a hill, turned and trotted back, running to Dag and pressing her large head against his belly. The mother hippolyte chuffed loudly at her several times, then reluctantly followed the herd.

  “I see the baby doesn’t want to leave your Second Mate,” Queen Altum Juls said, a frown ghosting across the unusual tattoo on her forehead. “Let’s see if she likes me.” Walking slowly to the baby hippolyte, the Queen laid one hand on her heaving back and began to murmur to her.

  Slowly Izzy lifted her head from Dag’s belly and backed to look at the woman petting her. Then with a snort and a loud chuff, she shook her whole body and rammed her head back into Dag’s body, flipping him backward with force. Anticipating the move, Dag caught her halter and anchored himself, weathering the ram with ease and practice.

  “Ah, she’s got practice at that I see,” the Queen laughed. “Well young man, it seems she better stay with you. Every girl needs her mother,” she said. Rather astute of her, Arc thought. “Will your Commander mind?” the Queen asked, turning towards Quirke.

  “We’d be honored to keep her,” Quirke assured the Queen. “We’d be grateful if you’d keep an eye on our favorites, too. Big Ben and the old male, Rex, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. We would be delighted to watch out for them. Dent and Axel each marked those. Axel marked Big Ben, I believe, and Dent marked the scarred male that seemed to be your companion, Commander Quirke. They’ll keep an eye on them for you,” she said soothingly.

  “Actually, the fact that you’ve each bonded with one of the Hippolyte’s only improves your standing in our eyes. It’s an auspicious start,” she added, looking thoughtfully over Quirke, Arc, and the remainder of the crew who had gathered on the ramp next to a relieved Dag. He’d draped one arm around Izzy’s shoulders and ushered her hurriedly back aboard Clyde.

  “Please invite your crew to join us at these coordinates in an hour for a luncheon,” Queen Altum Juls said, flicking a small band on her wrist with a motion towards Commander Quirke’s small tablet.

  “Though we do not eat food, our moon provides a bounty that we export. It will be your returning shipment. Our edible and organic goods are highly sought after, and we sell to only a select clientele,” the Queen stated.

  “You will be able to sample the goods you will be ferrying at the luncheon. We also will tend to our business transactions,” the Queen said, smiling and extending a hand to Quirke once more. “We will take our leave of you now,” she added, as Quirke bent over her hand once more. Arc and Quirke smiled at each other in excitement. They liked nothing better than exotic food. This contract was turning out to be a lot of fun.

  Chapter Nine

  Feast

  Ah, food, glorious food, Arc thought to herself. The crew had all cleaned up and then walked the mile to the coordinates the Queen had left for them. It had been a slow journey of frequent delight, as the crew oohed and aahed over various vistas and the plant life that grew along the path. The instructions to the feast had marked several places along the way where exotic orchids and other flowers could be seen growing wild. Having lost Earth, they were all enchanted. Even Birdie, having never lost a planet, was properly entranced as well.

  Approaching the coordinates, the crew ground to halt as a strange-looking habitat came into view. It lay at the base of large rocky cliff and looked like a giant sideways pea-pod. A mottled growth of moss, ferns and other plant life covered its entire form, blending it almost invisibly into its surroundings. It was, quite simply, a marvel of ingenuity.

  Several Idolum warriors bowed slightly and motioned them forward. The entrance to the habitat was surrounded by an enormous twisting-vine, dripping blossoms a foot long in a hue of deep blue-violet. The aroma was a heady blend reminiscent of the smell of pears and privet. It was heavenly.

  Disconcertingly, small tendrils of the vine brushed against each of them as they passed. It seemed to be sensing them somehow. Arc wondered briefly if it was a plant like the Venus-fly-trap and was luring them to their death, but the thought of food banished that idea almost immediately. Captive to her stomach, she snorted to herself internally.

  The floor of the habitat sunk slightly beneath their feet and Arc realized that they were walking on a live, growing bed of moss. Cool! This place was awesome! The walls, a pale spring-green, sported pockets of plant life that trailed out of the built-in planters like little kangaroo pockets of delight. Many of them seemed to hold orchids and other blooming plants.

  Overhead, the ceilings appeared translucent and light glowed down softly from above. The texture of the membrane over their heads reminded Arc of skin. It was veined with varying sizes of snaking root-like cords that occasionally pulsed. The entire structure appeared alive!

  When they were ushered into a large room with a table in the center surrounded by low stools, Arc gasped. If the tables and chairs weren’t giant mushrooms, she’d eat them, ‘cause she was pretty sure they were. Poison though, possibly. Mushrooms were a tricky lot.

  The walls dripped with greenery, and wonderously varied blossoms of all types sprang from hidden crevasses throughout the room. Arc recognized more orchids and varieties that looked like some of the native woodland plants from Earth. It was amazing.

  Queen Altum Juls awaited them at the head of the table. It was laid with a variety of items, none of them immediately recognizable to Arc except as types of fruit and vegetables.

  “Please, have a seat,” the Queen said, waving one elegantly long hand at the stools around the table. “As you have possibly already deduced, the table and stools are actually large fungi from this world.”

  After a thoughtful pause in which she scrutinized their expressions, and seeing only wonder at her words, she continued, “The habitat we’re sheltered in is one of the wonders of the Idolum worlds, a living shelter. These shelters are possible due only to the generosity of the peoples who inhabit Geboren.”

  “A few of the greatest of their leaders have had terrible accidents befall them that inhibit their ability to live a full life. They have been maimed or paralyzed due to hunting accidents or acts of war from other species,” she continued.

  “This habitat was a result of the bombardment of Geboren three years ago by the Intergalactic Guard. In the old days, thousands of years ago, the Idolum race simply took the brains of humans or other mammals and grew their
ships and structures from unwilling victims.” At their looks of horror and uneasy shiftings, she laughed and said, “Don’t worry, in my reign we have only accepted volunteers.” This incited only a few, warily-nervous head nods.

  “Rather than kill the parts of the frontal-parietal network that control personality, as our predecessors did, we allow the person who volunteers to remain intact. They experience everything as though they were here in person. The habitat or ship becomes their body. This habitat is called Aasha.”

  “Aasha was maimed and dying after the Intergalactic Guard bombardment. As he lay dying, his mother, at Aasha’s request, knew we had some old receptacles here on Geboren and urged the elders of her village to allow her to store his brain in hopes of his living again as a volunteer for our technology. Lucky for us they agreed,” she added solemnly. “Aasha, say hello to our guests.”

  A young man’s voice sounded through the comms system, “Hello friends. Thank you for bringing the hippolytes. We have missed them very much. My brother has already bonded with a young female and is very happy. Welcome to our home. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m just happy to have you here.”