My Other Car is a Spaceship

by Mark Terence Chapman

  The other man’s smile widened. When he spoke, it was with an accent Hal couldn’t identify—odd, but not difficult to understand. “Concise and to the point. Excellent. Please, have a seat.”

  His voice was a rich, warm baritone that contained not a hint of menace. Nevertheless, Hal was not about to drop his guard. There was no telling what kind of scam the other was running.

  “I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.”

  The man shrugged, now with a wry grin. “Suit yourself. My name is Captain Kalen Jeffries. I go by other names while I’m on Earth, but that’s my true name. Where you are is on my ship, Adventurer. Welcome aboard, Colonel Nellis.”

  He paused a moment with a small smile at Hal’s reaction to hearing his name, then continued.

  “Yes, I know who you are. Your being here isn’t random. You were chosen for your exceptional piloting skills.”

  Hal stood at attention, staring straight ahead, and enunciated with military precision. “Harold Thomas Nellis, colonel, U.S. Air Force, Retired. Serial number—”

  Kalen held up a hand to stop him. “Whoa. That’s not necessary, colonel. You’re not a prisoner; this isn’t an interrogation. We’re not a military ship, and except in battle conditions, we’re pretty relaxed about protocol. Call me Kalen. May I call you Hal? I know your friends do.”

  Hal stared back at the man, relaxing only slightly, and replied with frost in his voice. “Colonel Nellis will do for now.”

  A thought occurred to him and his brow creased. “Your ship. While you’re on Earth. You expect me to believe you’re some sort of alien and I’ve been abducted?”

  He looked around. “Ri-i-ght. Where’s the hidden camera—or should I expect the obligatory anal probing?”

  Kalen laughed heartily. “Good heavens, no! I fear your entertainment industry has invented all that to build ratings. No, in fact, you’re our honored guest.

  “You see, colonel, to answer your earlier question, we need your help.”

  Of all the things Hal had braced himself to hear, that wasn’t even on his radar.

  He snorted. “My help? Why? Call me skeptical, but how do I know I’m on a spaceship and that you’re aliens? You look awfully human to me. For all I can tell, you’re an agent of a foreign government and this is an elaborate ruse to pump me for classified information.”

  Kalen nodded, still smiling. “Quite understandable, given your former occupation. Come with me and I’ll show you.”

  He stood and turned toward the door. As he approached, it slid open with a hiss. On the other side was a corridor that looked much like the room they were leaving, only longer and narrower. Kalen stepped through.

  Hal followed. The slid shut behind them with a sigh. Big deal. I’ve seen that on TV.

  The corridor clearly had a gentle right-hand curve to it. During the short walk that followed, Hal observed several other people who looked just as human as Kalen.

  Aliens. Right. This has to be a joke or a conspiracy or something. No way these guys are aliens. So what’s their game?

  On the other hand, how did I get here—wherever here is—from my front yard? Drugs?

  He shook his head in confusion and mentally shrugged. For now I’ll just have to play along. Sooner or later they’ll slip up and I’ll figure out what’s going on.

  “Just curious, but why is your ‘ship’ so dark? Dim lighting, dark walls and carpet? Doesn’t that make it harder to work?”

  The lighting and furnishings seemed better suited to a bordello than an efficiently run ship, whether of space or sea.

  Is the dim lighting intended to hide the flaws in this illusion or mockup, or whatever it is?

  “True, if the crew were all human, like me. But more than ninety percent of the crew isn’t, and some of them can’t tolerate bright light. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. This way, please.”

  Kalen entered through another door and Hal followed.

  “This is the bridge of the ship.”

  Hal fought hard to keep his jaw from dropping. Instead, he swallowed. Nothing he’d seen so far had prepared him for what he faced. He stood at the back of an immense chamber full of consoles, viewscreens, and workstations. Dozens of people and…creatures, for want of a better word, scurried about looking busy. They varied in hue from a dull brick red to a brilliant cobalt blue to a shimmery yellow-orange shade. Color aside, the features of these beings were most unhuman in appearance, especially in the number and types of limbs. Hal spotted three-, four-, and six-limbed creatures. Some had hands and feet while others came equipped with pincers or tentacles. And they ranged from the ridiculously tall to the absurdly small.

  The room was surprisingly quiet, considering all the activity going on. Directly opposite Hal’s position was a window, although calling it a window was like calling the Grand Canyon a big hole in the ground. The transparent expanse was at least nine meters high and twice that in width, curving in a gentle arc.

  And, oh, the view: all of Europe and the Americas seemed within reach. Snow gleamed in Canada and eastern Russia. Over the Caribbean, a gray-white patch illuminated by frequent bright flashes revealed a storm.

  Hal stood there, mouth agape, taking it all in. The Pacific was deep indigo; the terminator knifed through North and South America. Cities along the eastern coasts shone like a string of iridescent pearls against a backdrop of blackest velvet.

  The sight reminded him unexpectedly of his ex-wife. Carol loves pearls. He smiled at the thought. No matter how much she resented the time I spent away from her, even Carol would have to be impressed by this. I wish she could see it. No video could be this crisp, this realistic.

  Hal had no doubt whatsoever that he was looking down on the Earth from orbit.

  “But how? Why?” He was having trouble getting all the questions straight in his mind.

  Kalen smirked. “How did you get here? Why are you here? Who are we and why are we here?” His gesture took in the whole of the ship’s crew.

  Hal nodded. “And you said something about battle conditions?”

  “It’ll take a while to explain all that. Maybe we should go to my ready room, where it’s calmer.”

  Many of the human faces seemed worried. The other faces? Hal had no idea.

  I suppose it could be makeup and prosthetics, like they do in the movies. But with that view…. He looked outward again. Maybe they are aliens.

  He followed Kalen into a room just off the bridge. The door closed behind them.

  “Please, have a seat.” Kalen gestured to the comfortable-looking burgundy chair facing the desk. Hal sat. The chairs appeared to be upholstered in leather and the table was made of something grained vaguely like walnut. The scene could have played out in an office building anywhere on Earth. The matte black walls and the rosy glow to the ceiling in lieu of light fixtures were unusual, but nothing that screamed “alien!” Framed images of worlds Hal didn’t recognize adorned the walls, images that had the clarity of ultrahigh-resolution digital photographs. They certainly weren’t soft-focus artist-conception fantasies.

  Hal could wait no longer. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  “You’re a military man, so I’m sure you appreciate brevity.” Kalen paused for Hal’s nod. “So let me answer all of your questions at once, and maybe a few you hadn’t thought of yet.”

  Another nod.

  “Good.” Kalen began ticking off the answers on his fingers as he spoke. “First, you’re here because we need a pilot. Both of ours are dead.”

  Hal raised a finger. “If I can interrupt—”

  Kalen nodded. “Of course.”

  “Good. If you need a pilot, why don’t you just radio home, or whatever it is you do, for help?”

  “A fair question. The simple answer is, I can’t. There’s no such thing as hyperspace communications. We use radio, just like you, as well as laser pulses, microwave bursts, and other methods. But they’re all limited by the speed of light. This means each ship is effectively cut off from its hom
e system as soon as it leaps. We’re on our own out here.”

  Hal nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Kalen smiled in return and continued his explanation. “Second, you were shot with a quick-acting tranquilizer and brought here. Third, the mission of this ship and others like it is to defend Earth and other pre-interstellar worlds from pirate attacks, and to apprehend the pirates and return them to the nearest Unity planet for judgment.”

  Hal interrupted again, this time with one eyebrow raised. “Pirates? In space? Are you kidding me? And say I believe all that—why only one ship? It seems like it would be hard to patrol a whole system that way.”

  Kalen nodded. “You’re right. It would be impossible in a more developed system. But as Earth is the only inhabited world in this system, it’s the only planet of interest to the pirates. And, yes, I’ll get to them in a minute. One ship is plenty to patrol a planet from high orbit.”

  “And I suppose you have some sort of stealth technology that keeps Earth radar and telescopes from picking up your ship.”

  “Correct.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Fourth, the Merchants’ Unity is an independent trade association, unaffiliated with any government, although many governments supply us with supplies and munitions to help us patrol the hyperspace routes. Fifth, there’s no ‘galactic police’ to do the job, because no civilization is rich enough to take on the task of patrolling not only its own borders but the spaceways as well.”

  Running out of fingers on one hand, Kalen switched to the other and continued counting. “Sixth, the Unity is primarily funded by tens of thousands of merchants whose businesses would be hurt by runaway piracy. Those depredations can also stunt the growth of young civilizations that would someday join the Unity and enlarge the markets for the members’ goods. All in all, it’s cheaper for the Unity to patrol the embargoed systems than to let piracy go unchecked. Seventh, your tales of alien abduction are grossly overblown, but there’s some truth to the stories. Slavers take thousands of people a year from small outposts and embargoed worlds—such as Earth—wherever they can get in and out quickly without confrontation. Over time, some escape and others are freed. Many gravitate to the Unity to help fight the slavers. That’s why there are humans on Adventurer. Does that answer most of your questions?”

  Hal agreed with a curt nod. “Most. So how many of these embargoed systems are there to patrol?”

  Kalen held up a hand and his eyes went unfocused. Then his body tensed and the relaxed atmosphere of the room evaporated.

  “Very well. I’ll be right there.” His gaze returned to Hal. He tapped his left temple. “My implant. I asked not to be interrupted except for urgent matters.”

  “Problem?”

  “Yes. Please excuse me for a few minutes. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  “No, not just yet. Please wait here.”

  Hal frowned at the worried look on the other man’s face as he turned to leave.

  “Order! Damn your eyes, this meeting will come to order!” The man shouting to be heard above the din glared at the worst offenders until the uproar subsided.

  “That’s better. You all know why you’re here.” Tarl Penrod held the others’ eyes with his own, seeking agreement.

  One by one, those seated around the oval table nodded in return.

  “Good. For the last few years, the so-called Merchants’ Unity has kicked our asses all over this sector of the galaxy.”

  He paused for the expected rumbling from the other thirteen pirate leaders assembled around the conference table aboard his ship, Queen Anne’s Revenge, before continuing. “You all know that’s true, despite what we tell our crews.”

  “So?” a Chan’Yi Chieftain called out. “What do you propose we do about it?”

  A chorus of agreement echoed in the empty cargo hold where the meeting was taking place.

  “Before I answer that,” Penrod countered, “let me ask you all something: Are they smarter than we are?”

  “Those dolts?” a yellow-orange Foren sneered. “Never!”

  “Good. Are they better equipped than we are?”

  “Not hardly,” the brick-red Sestran Captain snorted through nasal slits.

  “I agree. Are they fiercer fighters than we are?”

  The room erupted in laughter at the idea.

  “Very well, then. That leaves only one possible reason why they’ve depleted our ranks by more than forty percent in the last two years: they’re better organized than we are.”

  A quiet muttering was the only response from those around the table.

  “The problem,” Penrod continued, “is simply one of coordination. We’re raiding individually, with no interaction except by accident. Sometimes two ships raid the same outpost one after the other and the second ship gets nothing out of it.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” a human Captain groused. “That’s happened to me more than once. What a waste of planning, effort, and fuel!”

  “Exactly. And that’s the point of this meeting. We can’t keep doing business like this. We have to organize, share our intel, coordinate our activities, pool our spoils. In short, we need to act like businessmen—”

  “And women!” a female Chan’Yi interjected.

  “Of course,” Penrod conceded with a nod. “My apologies. And women. We need to join together, hire a professional accounting team, open bank accounts, invest in securities, buy off government officials, and so on. But we can’t do all that individually. On our own, we’re not big enough or powerful enough. Most of us don’t have more than a handful of ships. What we need is a fleet. Then we can smash the opposition and take what we want.”

  “And just where do we find this mythical fleet,” asked an Alberian. His pebbled green skin gave the appearance of being scaly, even though the Alberians had lost their true scales millions of years of evolution ago.

  “We don’t find one, we assemble one. Together we’re infinitely more powerful than we are individually. We need to band together. In short, we need to incorporate.”

  The room erupted in bedlam: shouts, laughter, snorts of derision, but also some nods of agreement. Penrod watched and listened, to gauge where the support and opposition were centered. After a couple of minutes, the hubbub subsided. Penrod raised his voice over the last of the commotion.

  “Let’s get some idea of how much support there is for this idea. All those who agree the idea is worth discussing further, please raise a hand, tentacle, or claw.”

  Eight hands, including Penrod’s, and one tentacle—the Foren Captain’s—went up.

  “All opposed?”

  Four hands and a claw went up.

  At the press of a button, all five pirates writhed and spasmed as electricity shot up one leg of their steel chairs, across their torsos, and down another chair leg. The other pirates leapt from their seats in surprise. Two seconds later, five smoking corpses slumped forward onto the tabletop.

  “Relax,” Penrod said, smiling at those standing. “The rest of you are safe. We’re all partners now, aren’t we? We’re about to change the rules of the game very much in our favor. Until now, we’ve had to limit ourselves to raiding embargoed planets, small outposts, and cargo ships. But no more. Soon we’ll be able to go anywhere and take anything we want!”

  He paused for the cheering, stomping, and table-pounding. While that was going on, his underlings cleared the room of the nonpartners and the ventilation system ramped up to evacuate the stench of charbroiled meat. Then he resumed.

  “Very well. Now let’s get down to the details. I’ve drawn up a draft charter of incorporation for all of you to look over. I think it’s fair to everyone, allocating shares of stock to all the partners according to their verified current net worth. We can elect a chairman and CEO later.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time we went on the offensive. If we do this right, we can destroy the Merchants’ Unity in short order.”

&n
bsp; Amid roars and hoots of approval, BAE (Buck-An-Ear) Corporation was born.

  “My apologies, Hal.” Kalen resumed his seat. “It appears we have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?”

  Kalen nodded. “A pirate. But the vessel is still hours from Earth.”

  Hal’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Isn’t that a bit convenient, them appearing as soon as I’m aboard? What better way to convince me of the seriousness of the situation.”

  The other man snorted. “There’s nothing ‘convenient’ about it. In fact, it’s most inconvenient from my standpoint. You’ll understand better later, but this is a very real danger, both to this ship and to Earth.”

  “Hmm. If you say so.”

  Kalen’s answer had done nothing to address Hal concerns, but the pilot pressed on. “As for that ship, shouldn’t you go out to intercept it?”

  “It’s best we stay here, in case it’s a feint to draw us away from the planet so another ship can swoop in while we’re occupied elsewhere.”

  Hal frowned. “Oh. Is that a common tactic?”

  “Not at all,” Kalen said. “Fortunately, the pirates tend to compete with one another for prizes. They rarely work together.” He frowned. “Still, we’re dealing with human lives here, so it’s best to err on the side of caution.”

  “Of course.”

  “So, to return to your question about embargoed systems: more than a hundred. The number varies from year to year, as new civilizations are discovered, while others are granted admission into the Unity. That’s why it’s so hard to patrol them all.”

  Hal whistled in surprise. “That many?” He paused a moment in thought. “Are any of these civilizations aggressive?”

  “Aggressive? As in ‘might want to attack Earth’?”

  Hal nodded.

  “No. As I said before, the Unity was formed as a peaceful trade association. Warfare is rather counterproductive in that respect. So, we don’t invite aggressive civilizations to join.”

  “If that’s the case, why haven’t we been asked to join this Unity of yours? I’m sure we’d love to get access to some of your advanced technology. We certainly have plenty of art and music to trade. Maybe even some technology no one else has thought of. Or are we too aggressive for you? I know our history hasn’t exactly been a peaceful one.”