by S. V. Brown
“Yes, ma’am.” A few laughed but most gave him a worried look, knowing his sense of humor too well. On the final day he patted Charles on the head, running his fingers through the thick fur. The wet nose sniffed and Charles’s head dropped sleepily. Al played with his paw for a moment smiling at the short legs. Bush dogs were funny-looking things but Al loved him. He sealed the chamber. He seemed to being doing that a lot lately, and checked the instruments ensuring Charles was moving into deep sleep, and then hibernation, then freeze. In the tests even in that state the attites were still active, responding to the animal’s automatic systems. They truly were amazing.
“All done?”
Al nodded. “Charles and all animals are in deep freeze, Chen. I’m on my way to E deck. You?”
“Just came to pick you up, we have sleep chambers side by side.”
Al laughed. “How romantic. Hope Simon understands.”
“I’m a sentimental fool, Al. Simon’s on my other side.”
They chatted on the way up and across, seeing the teams already in place to help them prepare. The room was clinical almost if you ignored the grey walls, floor and ceiling. Tubes hung from the ceiling, connecting to rows of white chambers. It was times like this Al understood why people didn’t respond well to him. He balked at being told what to do even when he knew he had to do it. And now? He and Chen were merely subjects to be bossed around, poked and prodded, drugged, and told to be still. He saw Chen’s hand waving before he was firmly told off by his team. His own team didn’t give him a chance to even respond and pushed down his freckled hand. Simon was already asleep with the chamber lid sliding across. Lights were madly blinking off and on, with data streaming across a small monitor on the side of his chamber.
Finally, tucked in without the bedtime story, Al drifted. Hating the forced sleep, he ran through the checks. All links to their base had been eradicated. A hundred thousand tons would lift from the surface. The Tun would rise into the sky and out to space. Back on Earth the detonation sequence would begin thirty minutes after their takeoff. He could watch the explosion after, because it would be monitored, and it had been estimated that a six-hundred-meter crater in diameter would be left. They had bets on the exact size. At this point of the journey discretion and all secrecy were discarded … his eyes finally closed …
… when he opened his eyes, the same bossy team were telling him to get out and get dressed. God knows … ah, ah, no religious expletives! Charlie knows what they did to them while they slept.
“Mess duty, Dr. Reos.”
Someone shoved a tablet into his cold hands. He rubbed his eyes and was told off. Grumbling a little but happy to have woken up, Al hastily obeyed and headed out to the kitchen. The Tun appeared to be the right way up now, inside at least and, from the monitors he checked on the way, they had docked and connected to the Tunuen. When he arrived the cook yelled at him. “You’re late, get over there and do those dishes.”
Al didn’t bother responding. The dishwashing plant guy had to serve meals, while the server medic had to cook, which had been the zoologist’s job, his job, but Al considered it a fair deal. He’d taken a little side trip to check his animals. After what seemed like hours of washing dishes, Al gladly finished and headed down to his real job. The hatch opened to reveal a series of offices to the left and right, then labs, and then the pens. He stood on one of the walkways glancing up and down the central oval tube. Most animals were in their chambers arcing around the tube. The animated animals were close to his current central position. Faster access for his teams to reach them that way. He was three hours in with checking the more sensitive species when an announcement was made to activate attite armor.
“Last call—” the voice boomed over the intercom “—activate ATA.”
He and his team had studied the penned animals since they couldn’t be told to activate their protection. When forces were felt in the simulation tubes, the monitored species displayed results that the armor came on automatically at different times for different species. It depended on their natural ability to withstand acceleration. At a certain stress level for each animal the armor would simply activate. Instinct. As humans, they were trying to perfect and adapt that wonderful animal advantage. His main project would be enhancing humans to “drive” differently.
He walked down to the central floor again and headed for the domesticated animals, taking an open-style lift. Power was restricted so it was mostly dark, or dimly lit, in the passages of frozen species. They had to ensure their domesticated beasts received enough UV though. Al stepped off and entered another, but more brightly lit, passage to a hatch that opened to a white paneled corridor that led to the pens. He breathed in the hay and enjoyed the familiar sounds of their farm animals. A pipe rattled quietly above his head but it told him the water was flowing. He walked through an open hatch and to one of the stalls. Basically, this section looked like a barn. A very clean barn.
“So, Dr. Reos. What duties did you get?” Samantha asked, pulling out a thermometer from a cow’s arse.
Mooooo.
“Cook and plumber but I missed my shift so had to wash dishes.”
“Shit. If they are giving our own brilliant zoologist and chronologist a cook and plumbing job, I wonder what they’re giving me?”
He patted a cow fondly on the head. “Maybe you are in the nurse’s station checking temperatures but it looks like plumbing to me.”
Sam laughed and then looked at her device, sighing.
“I have to go, Sam. Will you be okay?”
“Yeah, the cows seem content enough but time will tell if they produce milk while on the journey.”
Chickens clucked nearby.
“At least the super-mass rods are working fine.”
Sam rolled her eyes, the whites around the blue still a little bloodshot. Her brown hair was a little unkempt from cleaning out the stalls already. “No one would be happy with zero-g the whole way.”
“The stockpile reaping around the moon went smoothly then, I take it?” Sam’s partner was one of the hilarious geologists. They would have been too heavy to take off from Earth, so the moon held supplies of Super-Mass in its orbit. Most of the adult animals had been put in suspended animation and sent up in two by two shuttles over the years until the director put a stop to that. Some people sucked the fun out of everything. It was the mathematicians that suggested working with square roots instead. The director never caught on.
She shrugged. “Must have. Not that they’d tell us anything but—” she glanced around, “—I heard it was all pretty standard. You know what they’re like. If they aren’t joking, then there’s a problem and my honey bunny was pretty much bursting with all the uber bad anecdotes.”
He grinned. “Thanks. That’s reassuring.”
“Where are you next? I didn’t check the schedules yet; just came straight here to make sure our babies were okay.”
That’s why he made sure Sam was on his team; she was just like him. “Time’s a ticking.”
“Ah, chrono meeting. Have a good time.”
“Ha ha.” He left her, seeing her cheesy grin, but raised his voice as he walked away. “Who else is around?”
“Everyone.”
He glanced behind him with a smile. His team had their priorities straight. Animals first. Time second.
For the sake of simplicity, they had maintained the same chronological time in space to match that of Earth. He heard a bark and saw his bush dog bounding up, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. “Charles!” He bent down, taking his dog in his arms. He heard Sam laughing behind him. “Thanks, Sam!”
“You’re welcome.”
Charles
Three years after take-off they began a dangerous part of the journey, as they headed for a distant planet. It had been discovered by a Professor of Astronomy during one of the searches for a new home. A number of reconnaissance missions had been made over the last few years, testing the path to freedom. They set course and pr
epared for a long sleep. Moments before the first person was placed in suspended animation they were struck by a brilliant flash of white. They all collapsed.
Al was reading in the main lab and reached down to pat Charles when they both fell. Al’s coffee spilled over the floor but his last thoughts were of Charles, and in a mental cry he called out his dog’s name. As he woke, he blinked and tried to move. Every muscle hurt and felt heavy. He dragged his arm towards him and pushed himself up, his mind strangely foggy.
Far away in another galaxy a mantra was sung.
Charles in danger
Protect must
Human serve purpose
Go must
Protect now
Claim Reos
Fear permeated the room.
Al Reos looked on helplessly as the intruder laughed cruelly. The sound echoed around the laboratory. The space vessel Tunuen, with a final jolt, hung in empty space, vulnerable and alone. And, just like their vessel, Al’s mind refused to work. They had prepared for every contingency except meeting aliens. His team, and anyone close to his section, had been herded into his main lab by handsome, arrogant beings. Al was sure he’d seen similar faces around, back on Earth. His heart scrunched, seeing the mass of fur to his far left.
Charles, his faithful bush dog, was dead. Al had rescued, healed and raised the pup from a South American drug dealer. When the intruder had burst through the main doors, Charles, still confused from waking, had attacked, ignoring Al’s command. The intruder had swept his arm across the animal, breaking Charles’s bones; he had yelped in agony, dying within minutes. Al had rushed forward, only to be backhanded by the tall intruder.
Al was nauseous with shaking hands and blurry eyesight as the eerie, sallow green eyes surveyed the three still-breathing scientists. Two of Al’s comrades were already dead. The intruder had not used any physical means to kill them.
“Who is next? You—” the intruder, Jaruen of the Diminuen, looked at Al “—obey us or die.”
Al felt pressure build in his head; he knew if he hesitated any longer, he would crumple to the floor like the others, dead. The scientists hadn’t spent decades in preparation to leave the ruined Earth and its regulations to come under someone’s rule now. Sam whimpered close to where he unsteadily stood. She was doubled over a work station trying to right herself.
“Go to hell.” Was all that Al could get out as the pain increased, his knees weakened and Jaruen forced him to the cold, hard floor.
“Actually, that’s what we are trying to avoid.” Jaruen brushed aside a stray blond curl from his handsome face. “You scientists are so obstinate; even now, many of you are dead.”
The pressure in Al’s head increased.
Jaruen yawned. “And still you resist.”
Al’s narrow, freckled face showed pain, but he could still see that Jaruen was gaining pleasure from the encounter. A smile appeared on Jaruen’s white, chiseled features.
Al looked up and into his eyes and said, “Well, there you go, superciliousness will mar anyone’s features. I think I’ll call you ‘Jar’.”
The smile disappeared from Jaruen’s face.
Al blinked and focused to the alien’s left, seeing a shimmering shape in the corner of the laboratory.
“Tricks?” Jaruen laughed but looked over his shoulder anyway, his dark robes only slightly moving around his lean body. He frowned slightly. He saw nothing. “I’m growing bored. I’m surprised you haven’t realized that you wouldn’t have been able to leave Earth without our help. You even named this … ship after us.”
A moment more passed.
Al and the others didn’t quite believe him but it was too much a coincidence to ignore. Suddenly, Jaruen’s face distorted with anger and he vanished from their sight. Al’s mind was released. He staggered up and over rushing to Charles’s body, crying unashamedly for his beast. Anna, the second in charge of zoology, went to the human bodies, shaking her head at the waste. Sam rubbed her head. “They are keeping the women alive.”
Al nodded but then heard a voice in his head. “Reos. Come.” He dazedly turned toward the shimmering corner and lurched across, his head still pulsating in pain.
Mark, the head biologist, called out in shock, “Al, where are you going?”
“Stay here, I think we have allies.” He reached the corner and vanished. He tried to ignore the fact he grieved more for his dog than his family or dead comrades.
An Elysian directed Al to a different section of the Tunuen, where he instructed Al to get into a life pod. Al crawled in and watched the tiny monitor as a creature enveloped the pod once it had been ejected. He passed out.
When Al came to he studied the monitors with data showing a breathable atmosphere outside so he opened the pod. He stood up and stared around him. The green sky was enough for Al to realize he was on an alien planet. He rubbed his head. Of course he was on an alien planet! What an idiot. In front of him hovering over an ocean, level with the white land he was on, were three huge orca whales, as large as small cruise ships on Earth. They were shades of green, blue and silver. He started laughing at the same.
“Shit, what a crazy dream.”
The white surface under his pod was in fact rock slate, very smooth, that went as far as he could see to his left, right and behind. The green ocean stretched as far in front of him as he could see.
“Must listen, Reos, not much time. You should not have seen us, we help, we hear animal cry out, Charles. We see Diminuen attack, we stop them but they are now your problem, we save you and animals, many of you died Reos, genetic pool weakened, go back home?”
Al took a moment; grief and pain still strong. Hell, what did he have to lose? This was a coping mechanism surely. His psychologist would be proud if he played along. “No, we cannot.” Or would his psychologist be prouder if he rejected the strange scenario?
“Diminuen still plan to salvage failure, they want to breed with humans, much danger. Descendants will be stronger, intelligent but still flawed. Difficult decision.”
Al looked at all three, not sure who was speaking. Whales speaking? He was definitely delusional. The largest glided forward; he was a deep silver with a little blue and green with the white markings of a traditional orca. “I am Nysintheor, brother to the oldest Elysian Pyrintheor.”
“Thank you,” Al croaked, thinking maybe his sub-conscious, or the aliens, thought he’d respond best to giant whales. “I must meet with the others to decide. I don’t know what will happen now. You have saved us. Will you not show yourselves to me?”
“This is who we are.” The voice was amused.
Right. He was reaching the point of laughing hysterically again. “We owe you our lives. I speak for myself and the others when I say we want to repay you for your aid.” Sure, why not? No reason to be rude.
Silence greeted this.
“We will consider this, Reos, when we return to the Joiran Cluster.”
“Joiran Cluster?”
“Yes, Reos, the far reaches of the universe. We monitor and protect our cluster of galaxies from harm.”
“How do you travel?” He stared up at them. He asked sarcastically, “Swim the spatial currents?”
“Dimensional travel, we have no need of ships. Diminuen have ability to travel dimensionally too, short distances without ship, but need ship now, they are tired, they are diminished, only managed to make it to your ship. Short distance. Deliberate action.”
“And yet they still have much power, enough to take over the ship and kill us with their minds?”
“Yes, power much, but humans clever too, make Diminuen show you how to make machines to travel dimensionally, Reos.”
Brilliant idea. “Double thanks then, my friends.” My subconscious, my aliens. A breeze rustled through his brown hair, cooling his hot face. “Can we come to live at the Joiran Cluster?” Might as well press for a resolution and he began to suspect these creatures were real.
“Study us, Reos?”
Al gulpe
d. As they could put thoughts into his mind, they were reading his.
“No, Reos, you put words into our minds.” Al thought they sounded amused at this ability. “We study too, Reos.”
Had the AT worked after all and provided him with mental prowess? He wondered if that biochemical engineer was still alive. He’d be stoked. Al nodded, feeling strangely humbled. Strange, because he still didn’t really believe in what he was doing and seeing. “I would like to offer my services to you, as modest as they are.” He scratched his head, trying to feel for a lump. Had he hit his head?
“You have good heart, Reos, and special ability. Not many on Tunuen have good hearts. We consider your request. But know this: we have great enemy in eighth octant in Joiran Cluster, the Sharith. We hold them back, but for how much longer we do not know. They travel in space ships, razor sharp and dark. No dimensional travel, but fast.”
