by Marcus Sloss
The drone followed the tracks the buxen army had left behind. You could see a clear path from their hooved imprints. The drone zoomed at a surprisingly high speed. It covered a ten-mile distance until we saw a circular area with a huge wooden fence. While I watched the video I felt a slight gravitation disorientation. As if we were on an elevator that was shifting to go up. I shrugged it off to focus on the screen.
There was destruction everywhere. Smashed wooden homes, fences, and a single wooden tower had somehow survived the destruction. There was a common building theme of wood. I saw no metal at all; then again, the buxen had hauled some away. I frowned when we found no puroon or wormipede bodies but there was a curious discovery.
A lean-to had been crafted recently from the rubble. A group of brown beings were huddled under the cover with a single live puroon. I saw fur, big wide tails, and three massive buck teeth. Two extra-long arms dragged across the ground that short webbed feet walked across. Their frames were thin and their fur was molted with spots.
“Thoughts?” I asked on the command channel.
“Some sort of walking beaver. I am looking for a translator and have not found any. If they do not have one, they are probably a subspecies. The reports from before the fall of the larger network said we would run into species like these,” Harvard said over the radio. I nodded at his assessment as I watched the screen. The lanky armed beavers were so pitiful looking. “Sir, I know I am just the intel guy. But this is depressing. I think they rely on the puroon as beast masters. With that being said, I highly advise not interacting with that puroon. His ability to mind control -”
“Found them,” Douglas said from beside me.
I clicked the radio on. “We have forty seven minutes left. Bravo Team sticks with Torrez. Load up and get back to our planet at the first sign of trouble. Dedric, take the convoy to that body pit. Douglas, keep the drone hunting in the general area.”
I watched the view for a sliver of a moment longer before it shifted to the surrounding area. The buxen had piled the dead puroon into a pit. The wormipedes were burned. The loot from our planet had been removed as well as the loot from here. I was guessing that the pile of translators were not coveted because they were left behind. The feeling of going down in an elevator hit me and I became more curious as to what was shifting gravity here.
“Sir, I must inform you, I am not certain if the translators will work. There were no reports of any working that were recovered,” Harvard said with a serious tone.
“We need to find out. We have the gate secured with flat terrain. Dedric, what is taking so long?”
“Confusion over convoy lead. I told them it doesn't matter here. We’re not on a road. Time is more important than formation. We're in the lead,” Dedric said with a shake of his head. I heard him muttering with grumbles in between from the driver’s seat.
I was so mission-focused I had not taken a moment to observe a whole new world. I went to the rear bedroom to use the back ladder by the bed. I went up, opened the hatch, and stuck my face into the wind. My first sight was of Willow watching her surroundings intently with her weapon at the half ready. She was turning into a great soldier.
We drove over short grass with weeds. The blue grass was actually blue here, while the weeds were green. The ground wove, twirled, and patched itself between the two colors. I did not see a tree anywhere near. A few tall flowery bushes bloomed yellow flowers with brown trim.
I glanced up and instinctively ducked. Wow! A moon much bigger than ours dwarfed the daylight sky. It pulled us up as it rotated so close to the planet. I had the elevator weightless feeling while it transitioned overhead. This moon must rotate every few minutes at most. I watched it start its descending ark with awe. My amazement faded to observe there were zero clouds, or birds for that matter. A distant body of water faced off to our left on the horizon. The waves pulled and dipped with the moon.
The planet was desolate, full of odd colors, and lonely. I wondered if the fact that the puroon could control life made this area so devoid of life, aside from vegetation. Willow caught sight of me propped in the back of the RV and waved. I scurried down the ladder and closed the hatch.
“Hey boss, you’re going to want to see this,” Nancy said from the table.
A quick trot through the RV hallway left me stunned when I observed the view screen. We found the wormipede bodies. They were in the ocean being feasted on by a frenzy of creatures. A fish species seemed to be chatting outside the intense action while pointing with a fin at our drone.
“We are recording this, right? I have a theory based on seeking these guys. The beast masters were enslaving assholes. I bet they lured everything in to feed their wormipedes,” I said letting the sentence hang.
“I like that theory,” Harvard said over the radio. I frowned, and Nancy showed she had the mic open.
“Keep the drone moving. I cannot take mermaids home, and I’m certainly not going near that frenzy. Find me chickens Douglas, or something else we can use, please. Forty-one minutes.”
Dedric started to slow our advance. Willow started gagging inside the loft. I gave her a concerned look as my feet shuffled to the door before we skidded to a halt. The door burst open while I sped for the devices. I almost fell flat on my face from the ammonia permeating thick in the air. I grabbed a translator, which I struggled to see through burning eyes. I urgently rushed back into the RV. We vacated the area quickly with windows open to vent the air. I gagged a few times.
“Cap, I think the buxen like to piss on the dead of their enemies,” Willow said, stating the obvious.
Before the convoy drove the short distance to the huddled puroon and his odd humanoid beavers, I sent a message to everyone.
‘All hands off weapons, safeties on. Keep your hands in the air. If you see anyone reaching for a weapon, kill the puroon.’ - Cap
CHAPTER 18
The standard operating procedure (SOP) for cordon and search was to take initiation slowly. Our truck formed a circle perimeter. When I felt my unit had contained the single puroon with the fifteen tri-toothed beaver humanoids, I exited the RV after everyone else. Dedric remained in the driver’s seat with Douglas, staying to give drone recon.
My boots squished against the mushy-feeling ground. The vegetation below my feet did have a mossy appearance to it. While I walked to the survivors, I felt the sinking sensation telling me the moon was on the backside of the planet. I knocked on the tower leg on my path between fallen structures. The wood was certainly harder than pine. My metal knuckles gave no indent. I used my slow pace to contemplate what to do here.
We had been failing to get the translator to work. Which meant I would only be able to communicate with the puroon. I wanted to kill the mind-controlling alien. No qualms or second thoughts about it. There were far too many risks associated with taking the beast master home. The curiosity in me wanted to hear what he - dangling penis normally meant he - had to say. It seemed like the most logical thing to do after I contemplated the situation.
My troops parted to let me through. Their hands were up and the puroon locked eyes with mine.
“Greetings,” I said and the puroon stood stoically in front of the furred aliens. “Are you their master?”
“Yes and no. Hrosvdovsa -”
“Huh?”
“You need to name the creatures in your language. It is a translator requirement. When you receive yours, you will understand.”
I sighed while shifting to look over the long-armed tall beavers. I was thinking it over when Willow said, “Tavers. Tall beavers. Or tail beavers. Tavers. I like it.” She was nervously playing with her pink braid. Her blue eyes shined brighter on this planet. Willow knew I was wishing we were in a bedroom and blushed.
“Perfect. You are not as dense as the prisoners we capture,” the puroon said and my mind itched to kill the arrogant alien. I was shocked he would flaunt killing humans. “While I can be the master to the tavers, it is rarely needed. They seek peace and pr
otection. In exchange, they will build for our kind. Useless in a fight. We were on a wood gathering expedition when the buxen wiped out my tribe.” The alien’s small ears flopped against its large head in agitation. “Our war leader was always too aggressive.”
“What do they need to live?”
“Vegetation to eat, and protection. A full herbivore creature. Very basic in their needs. Water would be the other requirement. This is one of our hundreds of planets they were found on. We -”
“Excuse me, did you say hundreds of planets?” Harvard asked while pointing a recorder at the purple alien.
“Ah yes, new species into the chain are always fun. There are powerful beings who control the universe. If you are found deserving of isolation, your expansions are halted forever. It is really that simple. We, the puroon, had colonized a thousand planets. Our factions fought each other; as that had always been the way. Superior alien spaceships blasted our fleets, defenses, and orbitals into scattered remnants of their once-great power. Portals were placed on every colonized planet and we went from warring each other to warring everything. Much has been lost to our knowledge since then. We surmised that our warlike ways were too much for the mysterious superior power. If you are curious as to who regulates and manages the portal network, join the list. Whoever they are, they demolished our society. We now fight to live. Never being able to create spaceships again.”
“You do not seem very warlike?” Harvard used an asking tone in his statement.
The puroon slapped his hips, then gave an odd sound while jumping. Was this laughter? I thought it was.
“I am a manager. Hard to build structures, expand, and raise wormipedes when all you want to do is fight. We have variations in our species. I supported a successful chieftain for a long time. Those days are over after yesterday's defeat. Our species has limited self-control. I tried to join a more calm settlement but was held back. I have been trying to tell these tavers they are free to go but they keep trying to follow me. They do not understand freedom. I much desire to go to the other settlement,” the puroon said.
“What about these taver creatures?” I asked.
“They will need a home. The new settlement I seek is underground. Not suitable for them. They would need a lake, sunshine, and vegetation. Their meat is awful to us, but you might like it. We did not get to study your kind for very long.”
“Can you have them loaded onto that trailer?” I asked, thumbing a horse trailer behind an electric truck.
The puroon glared at me. “If I do, you will let me go. If those terms are acceptable, then yes. They will rampage if you kill me in their presence.”
“I can agree with that. We want to get off this planet before the portal lock ends anyway. Lower ramps to the breathable trailer,” I said, indicating the horse trailer. The taver shuffled with their little legs for the trailer. “You think the new settlement will want to trade?”
“Do you have rare metals?” the puroon asked.
“Rare is relative, but yes, we have metals. We are seeking farm animals,” I said. The puroon tucked his hands behind his back.
“We exploit the animals for sustenance and to feed our mounts. The greatest hurdle our species has faced is returning to small scale food management. We have trees we can trade. Fruit trees will probably be the best option. We are getting ahead of ourselves, I have to be accepted in the new settlement first. Then I have to convince wary leaders to trade a warring species. I doubt it will happen.”
The back of the trailer was bolted shut with the tavers inside. Their small eyes were glazed over with indifference.
“Three days. I will haul that trailer with metal in it. You bring fruit trees, fruit, animals, and even seeds in trade. We meet right here,” I said with a sigh. “And yes, I understand you may never show up.”
“I will try. Your time conversions are odd, but the translator stored the data. Until then, awefgver.” The alien said.
I shrugged the botched translation off and went into the RV. The bulldog sniffed me furiously to the point I told him to lay down. Yeah, that did not work. When Nancy came in, I was abandoned for her. Dedric pressed the accelerator. The convoy followed behind us.
There was an odd silence in the RV as we jostled for Torrez and home. I was waiting for the comment. I did not have to take long. I was surprised by who said it, though.
“So Cap, I am confused,” Willow said. Her voice was loud as it drifted through the loft. She had resumed her position as lookout up top.
“For the crew, or in this case, for the community. Yes, for the community works better,” Dedric said with his voice raised.
“Still confused,” Willow said loudly from above us.
I was watching the drone view. The route home was clear without any changes. Feeling somewhat safe that nothing cataclysmic was going to occur, I gave Willow my attention.
“I got this, Cap,” Nancy said before I could talk. “That puroon was either a mind reader or smart enough to ensure his survival. I guess we will find out in three days. Let me guess, you expected Cap to kill the alien.”
“Well, yes. He has no issues executing guilty people.”
“Ah, I get it. The puroon said the only thing Cap wanted to hear. Trade for sustainable food. That was enough of a hook that even Bonnet would have passed on killing the alien. Did you want to kill the puroon?” Nancy asked.
“Yup. The thousand-plus people at our new home prevented me from doing so. I may still regret my decision,” I said, loudly enough for Willow to hear from the loft.
“Got it, you tested the alien—not sure if it was a he or her. You tested them, found a possible reason to not murder them, and went that route. Super thought they were dead. I’ve got the drone, Douglas.”
I left my chair to slap my girlfriend’s boot. She tucked into the loft to give me her attention. Her pretty face was red from the whipping wind. “Willow, this is not Saudi Arabia where we kill to survive. Well, some of it is. We have a forever base for now. That means trading matters more than ever until we get ourselves established and secure.”
I pet the dog beside me, feeling like I won. We got some new creatures, maybe a trade partner, and escaped unscathed. Not a big win, but a win to me. We rolled past Torrez, who waved. He looked confused at the odd aliens in the horse trailer. I was certain we would get that a lot. The reality was, we were no longer a single species planet. Earth was littered with aliens of all types already.
The blue shimmer of the portal shifted through me while we transitioned to Earth. My eyes started to adjust back to home with a squint. I glanced at the Gpad timer and saw we had twenty minutes left on the portal lock. Excellent. Time to loot the stuff around here now. The last RV passed through the portal. Torrez let go of the button and leaped into the blue. Nancy opened the door for him.
His cybernetic legs got him into the RV in a matter of seconds. The convoy accelerated forward. I glanced out my passenger window to see the buxen army mostly dispersed. I think they realized we wanted no problems with them.
“Drone airborne,” Willow called out as a fresh drone went airborne.
We left the jostling grass and bounced onto the county road a few minutes later. “RV1 deviate to the marked area on the map to loot. RV2 deviate from this road to this construction zone to loot. Keep someone watching the drone feed at all times,” I said into the radio.
“Charlie team on the way,” Eddy said as they drifted into the other lane for us to pass them.
“Alpha team acknowledges and will turn north shortly,” Mclain said in reply.
Dedric cleared his throat for my attention. “Those salt trucks are not far. We can grab them on the way home.”
I nodded. “Rest of the convoy, follow my RV.”
‘Home safe, we picked up alien beavers. We call them tavers. They will go into our lake or our bellies if they cause problems.’ - Cap
‘No king?’ - queen 1
‘I am bringing aliens home.’ - Cap
Who igno
res a statement like that? I guess Perci does.
‘Okay. You were barely gone an hour. Integrating all these new people has been fun. They set up tarps between fire trucks to make shelters. They seem legitimately happy to be here, which helps. There has been no squabbling or fighting. Explaining that we are not a democracy went over smoothly. I think they are here for stability, electricity, and plumbing. The fact you have been fairly docile and helpful has made the transition easier. What are your plans with these tavers?’ - queen 1
‘Not sure. We do not exactly need help pulling out trees or chopping them up. Maybe they can strip the bark off tree trunks. That is a tedious process. Maybe they can expand the lake so we can grow fish. Learning about them will not be boring. They are docile and need a new home. Hopefully, we can help each other.’ - Cap
‘I get it, you are winging it. See you soon. Changing your name to King of Captains. Does that work?’ - queen 1
‘I ever tell you how wonderful you are?’ - King Cap
I chuckled at the little device, wishing the woman was with me. “Come on down, Willow,” I yelled to her.
She shimmied out of the loft. I extended a hand that she accepted. I pulled her into my lap and she declined my kiss. Willow wet a rag and proceeded to clean her face.
“I got bug splatter in my teeth. I need to wear a shirt or rag over my face next time I am up there.” She paused to use the rag to literally scrape her teeth. “So not having a conversation up top without a mask again. What is next?”
