The Hunt for Reduk Topa

by Barry J. Hutchison

  “Oh, great! So, what do I do?” Cal demanded.

  “It’s a flower,” Mech replied. “Can’t you just kick your way out?”

  There was a pause while Cal considered this. “OK. Yeah. That actually makes sense. It’s a flower. I can kick my way out of a damn flower, right?”

  “I would hope so,” Mech said. “You know, on account of you being a grown man, and it being a flower.”

  “No, you’re right. I panicked, that’s all. I just panicked,” Cal said. “Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

  There was a grunt from inside the flower head. A foot emerged through the gap between two petals and got completely wedged. Inside, Cal tried unsuccessfully to pull it back in.

  “No. No, that’s now completely stuck.” Cal sighed. “Great. Any other bright ideas?”

  “What about the tongue?” Mech asked.

  “What about it?” came the reply.

  “Is it still there?”

  “Well, of course it’s still fonking here. Where else would it be? You think it fell off? It’s currently licking my visor like it’s a lollipop.”

  “Aw man, I’d like to see that,” Mech mumbled.

  “What was that?” Cal hollered. “I can’t hear you, because I’m still in this big plant.” He groaned. “This is all Kevin’s fault. He and I are going to have words when I get back.”

  “If you get back,” Mech corrected. “We may not be able to get you out.”

  “You’d fonking better get me out!” Cal warned. “What about the tongue? What were you going to say?”

  “Huh? Oh, I was going to say you should try pulling on it.”

  “Pulling on it? Why the hell would I pull on it?”

  “I just think if you pull it, it’ll let you go.”

  “And what makes you think that, Mech? Hmm? You’re suddenly an expert on these things?”

  “If you pulled my tongue, I’d spit you out,” Mech said.

  There was a lengthy pause.

  “I don’t even know where to start with any of that,” Cal replied. “Do you even have a tongue?”

  “Just pull the damn tongue,” Mech barked.

  Inside the petal cocoon, Cal contemplated this. “Fine. Fine. I’ll pull the tongue. Here I go. Pulling the tongue… now. Wait. No. Damn this thing is hard to get a hold of. Pulling the tongue… now.”

  Cal pulled.

  Nothing happened.

  “Hold on, hold on. That was my other arm,” he said. “It’s dark in here, and I can’t feel much through the suit.”

  The flower head rustled as Cal moved around. “OK, got it. Pulling the tongue… now.”

  Cal pulled. The tongue this time.

  With a shriek, the petals sprang open as if they were all on hinges. Still holding the tongue, Cal fell, swung like Tarzan, then went sailing through the open doorway and into the corridor beyond.

  He hit the floor, careened helplessly across it on his back for several feet, then collided with the warp disk that Mech had left propped against the corridor wall.

  It fell on him, the edge of the disk clipping the top of his helmet and pinning his head to the ground.

  Inside the helmet, Cal watched as a thin jagged line began meandering down from the point of impact. “Oh, shizz. That’s not good,” he said. “Mech, get this thing off me!”

  The warp disk was hoisted into the air. Cal held his breath, expecting to smell an inrush of toxic atmosphere and feel his brains turning to gravy at any second.

  But the crack had stopped growing, and the glass seemed to be holding for the moment. He used Mech’s leg to pull himself up, gave himself a dust down, and risked a glance back into the room with the plant. The petals were all the way wide again, the tongue coiled and ready to strike.

  “So, what the fonk was going on there?” Cal asked. “I thought it was supposed to be, like, yay big?”

  He mimed a standard houseplant size. “And no one said anything about it being man-eating! Why is it man-eating? Why would you even have that on a ship? And why put it in the room with the TV?”

  “I think it was in the vents,” said Mech, hoisting the warp disk onto his shoulder. He began the steady plod back in the direction of the airlock, while Cal walked backward beside him, still watching the room they’d just left.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “The plant. It was growing out of the vents,” said Mech.

  Cal regarded him blankly.

  “So, it didn’t necessarily start in that room,” Mech explained. “It could’ve been somewhere else, then it grew through the vents.”

  “Through the vents?” said Cal.

  He looked along the corridor ahead of them. Every dozen feet or so, up where the wall met the ceiling, was a slatted metal grate.

  “You mean like the air vents?”

  There was a sound from the wall beside them, like rats were scurrying around inside the cavity. It quickly passed them, and they both watched as one of the grates up ahead fell off and landed on the floor with a clang.

  Mech glared at Cal as the tip of something green and fibrous appeared from inside the vent and moved tentatively in the air.

  “OK, fine. You were right,” said Cal with a sigh. “The plant was a bad idea.”

  “They back yet?” asked Miz, slumping into her seat aboard the Currently Untitled.

  Loren tore her gaze from the screen and glanced at the door to make sure Tyrra wasn’t about to follow Miz onto the bridge.

  “No,” she said. She checked the displays on her console, then spoke in a low, matter-of-fact voice. “Your problem’s with me, Miz, not Cal.”

  Miz scowled. “Excuse me?”

  “You shouldn’t be angry at Cal because he and I are… You know. Together. You can’t keep blaming him.”

  “I don’t even care,” Miz said, rolling her eyes. “Like, do what you want. Ew.”

  “So, it’s just a coincidence that you let Tyrra keep hurting him?” Loren asked.

  “She needs to practice, and he heals fast,” said Miz. “Duh!”

  “You’re punishing him. You’re punishing him for choosing me,” Loren said. “And it’s not fair. He hasn’t done anything wrong. If you want to punish anyone, I’m right here.”

  Miz drummed her claws on the arm of her chair for a few moments, eyeballing Loren. Loren held the gaze, unflinching.

  “Tch. Whatever,” Miz said, eventually relenting. “I’m not punishing anyone. She’s practicing.”

  “For what? Becoming a serial killer?” asked Loren. “She’s a kid. She doesn’t need to spend all her time stabbing things.”

  “Not my fault if that’s all she wants to do,” Miz said. “I’m just, like, helping her, or whatever.”

  “Find her a different hobby,” Loren suggested. “Because this thing with Cal? It ends. Now. It is done.”

  The fur on Miz’s neck bristled, and her lips twitched as if a snarl was trying to force its way through.

  “He never wanted to hurt you,” Loren said, trying to calm the situation before it could escalate any further. “He cares about you, Miz. A lot. He really does.”

  Miz stood up. “Just not enough, I guess,” she muttered, then she turned sharply and headed for the door.

  “Oh, and Loren,” she said, stopping when she reached the doorway.

  “Yeah?”

  Miz looked back over her shoulder, her deep brown eyes dark and shimmering. “Hurt him and I’ll kill you.”

  Loren nodded. “Ditto,” she said.

  “Apologies for interrupting such a wonderfully tense face-off,” intoned Kevin. “But I have some good news regarding Masters Carver and Mech. They are alive and on their way back.”

  Miz’s eyes went to the screen. Loren spun in her seat. One of Splurt’s eyes turned the other way so he was looking in two directions at once.

  “What the hell did they do this time?” Loren wondered.

  “Ah yes, that’s rather the bad news,” said Kevin.

  On screen, Mech
and Cal came hurtling through space as, behind them, vast plant-like tendrils exploded through the windows of the ship and grabbed after them.

  “They don’t appear to be alone.”

  Seven

  “It’s got me! It’s got me!” Cal hollered, as he and Mech drifted in through the Untitled’s outer airlock door. One of the vines had wrapped around Cal’s ankle, and was twisting up past his shin, over his knee, and continuing in a worryingly northerly direction. “Get it off, get it off!”

  Mech slammed a hand on the button to close the door. It shut with a clang, severing the plant tendril. Despite the sudden amputation—or possibly because of it—the tentacle thrashed around, spraying viscous green sap all around the room. The sap floated in gelatinous blobs, then the airlock’s artificial gravity kicked in and everything that was currently hovering in mid-air suddenly decided not to be.

  While Cal continued to thrash, scream, and test the limits of the translation chip’s censorship abilities, Mech caught the severed end of the tendril and gave it a sharp, sudden tug. Cal spun like a top, flipping up off the floor and performing seven or eight complete rotations before landing again.

  The plant wrestled against Mech, trying to coil up his arm as he twisted the severed end into a knot and pulled the whole thing tight. That done, he turned and hurled it against the bulkhead wall. It hit with something between a thud and a splat, then dropped to the floor, twitched a few times, and fell still.

  “Ugh,” Cal groaned from down on the floor. “I fonking hate space.”

  He stood with some difficulty, unfastened the clips and pulled his helmet off, then spent an enjoyable thirty seconds scratching his head and every available part of his face. “Oh, that’s good,” he said. “That’s the stuff right there.”

  Outside, an oozing green tendril slapped angrily against the airlock’s porthole window, smearing it with frosty green sap.

  “Ha! Not so tough now, are you, stumpy?” said Cal, giving the vine the finger. “What’s the matter? Locked out? Aw, you poor thing. That’s what you get for trying to tongue me in places I didn’t want to be tongued. You lose, pal. You…”

  The ship creaked ominously around them. It was not a noise Cal had heard the Currently Untitled make before. It was not a noise he’d heard any ship he was on make before. He’d have remembered the nerve-jangling sense of terror it brought with it.

  “Um… What was that?” he asked, looking up.

  Mech’s expression was cold. “You know damn well what it is.”

  Cal played it as innocently as he could. “I mean, I guess it could be the plant, but it’s highly unlikely.”

  “Cal! Mech! Get up here!” barked Loren from up front. “There’s a fonking plant trying to wrap us up.”

  Mech’s expression didn’t change. Cal mustered a small, slightly pathetic smile. “OK, reasonably unlikely,” he said.

  Thirty seconds later, Cal stumbled onto the bridge, one leg still wedged inside his spacesuit. The screen was partly obscured by greenery, half-cutting off the view of the other ship, which now resembled some sort of fat, sprouting seed.

  “Jesus, how big is that thing?” Cal wondered, hopping to his seat as he wrestled with the suit.

  “Enormous, sir,” said Kevin.

  “Rhetorical question,” Cal said, shooting the ceiling a dirty look. “I thought you said it was a houseplant?”

  “I believe it was you who said that, sir,” Kevin reminded him. “Besides, I suppose it technically still could be, assuming one had a very large house.”

  “Where’s Mech?” Loren demanded. “Did you get the warp disk?”

  “Yeah. Turns out they had a spare,” Cal said. “We should really look into that.”

  The ship shuddered as another vine latched onto it. Loren tapped a button on her console. “Mech, how long?”

  “Gimme fifteen minutes,” crackled Mech’s voice over the intercom. “This shizz ain’t easy.”

  Loren groaned. “OK. I’ll do my best.”

  “Kevin, break out the guns,” Cal instructed. “Blow the ship to pieces.”

  “This ship, sir?” asked Kevin.

  “What? No! Not this ship,” said Cal, finally freeing himself from the suit. “The other ship.”

  “Right, sir. Yes, it did seem rather an odd request,” Kevin replied. “However, I’m afraid I am unable to carry out your instructions on this occasion.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “To do so would draw more power from our own ship than is currently available,” Kevin explained. “Ironically, firing on the other ship would only destroy ourselves.”

  “Damn it,” said Cal, thudding his armrest with his fist.

  “There’s a moral in there somewhere, sir,” said Kevin. “Just don’t ask me what it is.”

  The ship creaked and groaned, and Cal found himself sucking down a deep breath. Another vine drew across the screen, completely obscuring their view.

  “It can’t get in, can it?”

  “Let’s hope not, sir,” said Kevin.

  “This is all your fault!” Cal told him.

  “My fault, sir? I don’t follow.”

  “I was bringing it back for you!” Cal said. “That’s the only reason I went looking for the stupid plant.”

  “For me, sir?” said Kevin. “What a kind gesture.”

  The ship shuddered and let out a series of worrying-sounding cracks.

  “Although, for future reference, next time gift vouchers will be fine.”

  There was a swish as the door to the bridge opened. “You know that, like, plant thing’s wrapping around the ship?” Miz said as she entered. Tyrra followed at her heels, and Cal visibly flinched when he saw her.

  “We noticed,” said Loren. “Everyone buckle up, I’m going to go to impulse power and try to shake it off.”

  “You’d better do what she says,” Miz told Tyrra. “It’s bad enough when she can see what she’s doing.”

  “You sure flying blind is the best idea, honey?” asked Cal, frantically scrabbling to pull on his belt. “Shouldn’t we wait for Mech to do the thing with the thing?”

  “Mech, how long?” Loren asked.

  “Twenty minutes,” came the reply through the console.

  “Wait, you said fifteen minutes five minutes ago!” Loren pointed out.

  “The warp disk’s the wrong size,” Mech explained. “It don’t fit in the housing. I’m gonna have to patch it together with relays and hope it don’t explode.”

  “Don’t you dare blow us up, Mech!” Cal hollered. “That’s an order.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  There was a faint click and a high-pitched hum from the console. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” said Mech, his voice a little faster and higher-pitched. “I must devote as much of my intellect as possible to the matter at hand.”

  Loren flicked a series of switches, swiped a finger across a swipey thing, then gripped the yoke. “Looks like we don’t have a choice. Going to full impulse reverse… now.”

  There was a sudden lurching movement that threw everyone back in their seats.

  “OK, engine holding up,” said Loren, checking the readouts.

  Cal glanced at Mizette. She rolled her eyes, gave a little shake of her head, then made a gesture that indicated Cal should say something.

  “Uh, honey?” Cal ventured.

  “Kind of busy here,” Loren replied.

  “Sure. I can see that. It’s just… are you sure this is reverse?”

  “What are you talking about, of course it’s…”

  Loren studied the screen.

  She eased off on the throttle, bringing the ship to a stop.

  A few switch clicks later, everyone was jerked forward in their seats.

  They were all kind enough not to pass comment on any of this.

  Except Miz.

  “So, what are the odds that we’re now going sideways?” she asked.

  “We’re going backward,” Loren insisted.

/>   There was another sudden jerk. It was accompanied by a series of creaks and groans and a worrying sort of bang from somewhere under the ship.

  “Uh, looks like we’re not going anywhere,” Cal whispered. He wasn’t sure why he whispered, exactly, it just felt like a whispering sort of moment.

  “Shizz,” Loren groaned. “I thought the vines would break off, but they’re holding. It’s trying to pull us back.”

  “Slight problem, everyone,” Kevin announced.

  Cal looked up. “What, you mean beyond…” he gestured extensively to the screen and the ship at large. “Everything?”

  “Yes, a new one to add to the list, I’m afraid. You see, Physics is rather a funny thing.”

  Cal, Loren, and—to a much lesser extent—Miz waited for more.

  “Is it?” asked Cal eventually.

  “What are you talking about, Kevin?” Loren demanded.

  “Well, see, the thing is, ma’am, your attempts to break us free may have backfired somewhat,” Kevin continued.

  They waited. Again, nothing.

  “How, Kevin?” Cal asked. “How did it backfire?”

  “I’d rather hoped you’d have worked it out by now, and I wouldn’t have to be the one to break it to you,” said Kevin. “Not to worry.”

  He took a deep breath. Or made the sound of one, anyway.

  “I won’t bore you with the science, sir. It’s all mass and weight and gravity and friction and what have you. Not your kind of thing at all,” Kevin said. “But the long and the short of it is, the vines attempted to pull us back.”

  “Yes. We know,” said Loren.

  “But they have nothing to pull against,” Kevin continued. “No anchor point, so to speak.”

  “The ship,” Cal reminded him. “They’re coming from the other ship.”

  “Oh, shizz,” Loren spat, her eyes suddenly wide and alert, her movements frantic across her controls.

  “Yes, quite, ma’am. You see, while the plant may be in the ship, the ship is not attached to anything, per se. And so, as a result of Mistress Loren’s attempts at evasion, said ship is now hurtling toward our own.”

  “It’s what?” Cal yelped.