The Lonely Whelk

by Ariele Sieling

  “Me neither,” Pilgrim said. “But Holland is looking for us, so we just need to be patient and try to figure out what is going on with these monkeys. Are you tied up?”

  “Yes,” Hazel replied. “The bonds are secure.”

  “Mine are too. Maybe if we can inch towards each other, one of us can untie the other. Try to move towards me.”

  “Okay,” Hazel said, and began to scoot towards the sound of Pilgrim’s voice. All of a sudden the monkey around her neck began to squeak and buzz.

  “What’s that?” Pilgrim asked.

  “It’s the translating monkey.” She rubbed her face against his fur again. “Do you have light, little monkey?”

  His eyes lit up, two glowing orange beams in the darkness.

  “Oh,” Pilgrim said. “There’s a row of cactuses between us. We must still be in the arboretum, but they fiddled with the night settings.”

  “Monkey,” Hazel said, “can you untie me?”

  “Meep!” the monkey replied. It scampered down her arm and began to fiddle with the ropes around her hands.

  “How is that the monkey can repeat all of my words in another language, but not speak to me?” Hazel asked Pilgrim.

  “I don’t know. This monkey was programmed by another robot monkey. Squeak made them all. Who knows what logic robot monkeys follow?”

  “They follow my logic!” a voice proclaimed.

  The lights in the room blazed brightly. Hazel blinked in the sudden light, until her vision cleared enough to see Emperor Tamarin standing on a large rock in front of them.

  “I made them! They are my children!”

  “Okay, Squeak,” Pilgrim said in an irritated voice. “Come on, now. What is going on?”

  “We have found our opportunity,” Emperor Tamarin replied. “It is time!”

  “What opportunity?” Hazel asked. The little monkey was still fiddling with her bonds. She hoped he would hurry.

  “Our opportunity to take over the world. The perfect opportunity, or in other words: you!”

  “How her?” Pilgrim scoffed. “She is alone. She has no power. No one even knows she’s here!”

  “Ah, but she got here. She has a ship!” Emperor Tamarin was hopping a little, presumably with excitement. “We have discovered that the ship is locked – thus we need to you let us in, and then we will take over the world!”

  “A world,” Pilgrim muttered. Then he said more loudly, “Okay, then, let’s go! Get this over with.”

  “Stand!” the Emperor commanded.

  As Hazel stood, she felt the bindings around her hands loosen, and her little ally monkey slipped back up around her neck. She kissed his fur. “Thanks,” she whispered, and began to walk slowly in the direction indicated by the swarm of monkeys that surrounded them.

  Staring at the stars, Holland watched as memories of her son, her husband, her brother, and life back on Sagitta flashed through her memory. They were painful, but warm; dark, yet comforting. Every so often she would think, I don’t have time for this, but ignore the voice in the back of her head – just one more minute, just one more.

  Then, Holland’s nostalgia was harshly interrupted as a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

  “Admiral Hawkings,” it said. “Please report to Corridor 11.”

  Frowning, Holland headed to the nearest comm station. She needed to get the portable communicators out of storage and hand them out to everyone.

  “McGraff?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Sir,” McGraff stated. She must have been at the Corridor 11 Comm Station. “You need to get over here. This is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Be right there.”

  Holland tried to run, but as she did, pain shot up one leg. She grimaced and slowed down. Whatever this mystery was would have to wait the few extra minutes it required to walk instead of run. She was amazed that she was still able to remember all of the corridors to get from one side of the ship to the other. All of the shortcuts, ladders, and doorways were all still firmly in her mind; the years spent sleeping hadn’t emptied her mind of anything. When her thoughts brushed up against the death of her son, however, she wished it had.

  He had been only eleven when his life was snuffed out: a game with his friend in an empty field that had resulted in a broken leg in the bottom of a well. The broken leg wouldn’t have killed him if it hadn’t severed his artery… she gasped as a surge of emotional pain rose up like a tsunami. She quickly tried to pull her thoughts away. She was six hundred years past and flying close to the speed of light on the other side of the galaxy, but it felt like it had happened just yesterday. My poor John, she thought, and then swallowed, forcing her attention back to her surroundings.

  She rounded the corner into Corridor 11 and saw her staff standing in a huddle down at the far end. McGraff waved in her direction, so she speeded up a little bit. As she drew near, her jaw dropped. Stuck into the wall was a store – the kind you found in touristy locations in cities all over the galaxy. She hurried closer, and her crew hurriedly stepped out of her way. A sign hanging over the door said, “The Magic of Whelk,” and when she gazed through the glass windows in the front of the shop, she could see sweatshirts, magnets, chocolates, and all sorts of little trinkets blazoned with the name of her ship.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” McGraff replied. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t here when we left.”

  “Did the monkeys build it?” Holland asked. It was the only thing she could think of. “But why would they?”

  “Restaz has an interesting theory,” McGraff replied.

  Sergeant Restaz stepped forward and saluted. “Ma’am, could it be the alien’s ship?”

  Holland raised her eyes. “I don’t see how,” she replied, “but it’s just as likely as the monkeys building it.” She looked around. What should she do about it? It didn’t seem to have done any harm, aside from causing a minor electrical spike – assuming that the shop was, in fact, responsible for that – and she had far too many other things to worry about.

  “Okay, I am moving this to a lower priority. McGraff, take your team to the arboretum. Finding Pilgrim and the girl is your next top priority, and if you see a way to stop those blasted shipbots, do it.”

  “Yes, sir!” McGraff saluted and her team marched down the hall.

  Holland stared at the shop again. She tried the door, but it was locked. They would have to break in at some point, unless Hazel had the key… but what a strange, strange thing. Shaking her head, she turned to look down the hallway. If it was Hazel’s ship, what had she thought when she landed here? Did she come on purpose? Taking a deep breath, Holland pushed the thoughts from her mind. She needed to focus on the primary problems at hand: finding Pilgrim, dealing with the shipbot infestation, and getting her people safely to the ground so they could start colonizing. Then she could send a report back to Sagitta and get on with her life.

  She began to walk down the hallway, and imagining the steam rising from a hot bath. A glass of whiskey, jasmine bubble soap, some classical music, and a good cry sounded perfect right about now. Then maybe a jaunt through her family photos file, so she could put the emotional swinging to rest. She paused as she heard a strange noise behind her. Turning, she gazed in amazement at an ocean of robotic fur swarming down the hallway towards her.

  Give me a run-down,” Quin said as he burst into the security room where Clyde sat feeling awkward, stressed, and terribly uncomfortable. “And then I want you to help me with the shutdown. We need to do it now.”

  He turned his focus towards the problems at hand. “The group that was harassing Bob is in, on their way to the Door Room – at least according to this book of blueprints. Some random guy just broke into your office, and Boris just left the office with the giant turtle desk.” Clyde didn’t take his eyes from the screen.

  “My office?” Quin asked, looking up at the screens quickly. “What is this random person doing?”r />
  “He left something on your desk. It looks like a magazine,” Clyde said. “I’m not completely sure, but it looks like he’s talking to himself.”

  “Okay,” Quin said. “Help me with this and then I’ll go and head him off. We’ll worry about Boris later. Hit the black button over there.”

  “This one?” Clyde pointed to a button that sat by itself on a board. It must be important if it had its own spot.

  “Yes,” Quin confirmed.

  Clyde pressed it and an alarm began to sound all around him. The individuals on the screens looked up in surprise, but quickly continued along their trajectories.

  “Pull up the program titled ‘Rose’ on the computer,” Quin instructed. He had somehow magically appeared over by the wall switches.

  Clyde moved over to the computer and found the program. He waited while it booted up.

  “Password?” Clyde asked.

  Quin was suddenly behind him, rapidly keying in the code. “Shutdown is complete,” he said. “Movement is now limited to individual floors, unless you have master keys to the building. There is a set in the cupboard over there for you – you’re lucky we keep an extra one around. They go to the elevator and the stairs. Stay here until I tell you otherwise, and keep your eyes on the screens.”

  “Of course, sir,” Clyde replied.

  “If you see anything else, let me know immediately.”

  “Of course. The strange man who was in your office appears to be heading towards John’s office.”

  “Great. I’ll head him off.”

  The next moment, Quin was gone. Clyde looked everywhere, but somehow, without making any sound, Quin had completely disappeared. Feeling a bit nervous, Clyde returned to his post. He began to run through Ivanna the Bard quotes: High emotion can lead to better focus or worse mistakes. Know yourself; know your weaknesses; know your strengths.

  When alone and faced with difficult situation, make the best or go home.

  Find peace in every situation and an escape route will magically appear.

  “Well, hello there,” a voice from behind Clyde said smoothly.

  Clyde jumped. No one was supposed to be in here. He took a deep breath and turned around.

  “I’m sorry,” Clyde said calmly. “Can I help you?”

  “Oh, just browsing,” the man replied. He smiled slowly, his lips curving around his teeth like a wave over a rock which crashes back again where it came from. “Please, continue on with your work. Really. I can entertain myself.”

  Clyde frowned at the dapper-looking gentleman in the long pinstriped suit. He wore a hat – an old-style hat with the fur in the back. How had he gotten in here without Clyde noticing? He glanced back at the screens: the crew of three heading towards the Door Room was now a crew of two. How had he missed that? And how had this person gotten up here if the stairs and elevators were locked?

  “I’m sorry,” Clyde answered. “But I really must ask you to leave.”

  “Look at all these screens!” The man wandered towards the console. “It’s incredible, really. You can see everything! Oh, look – what are those people doing?”

  Clyde turned his attention immediately to the screen at which the man was pointing. The woman in the tight dress and awful hair and the big ugly man were walking down the hallway. They had nearly reached the door to the Door Room.

  Clyde held the box up to his mouth. “Quin.” he began.

  “Oh no you don’t.” All of a sudden, the man stood behind him with a sharp blade pressed against Clyde’s neck. “I have something else I need, and I don’t want you telling anyone about it.”

  The knife pressed a little further in as Clyde flinched slightly. He tried to stay calm and remember all of his training: don’t antagonize; look for an opportunity; get help. If only he could hit a button on the comm.

  “And don’t try anything,” the man said, “because I’ll wager my life I’ve got you beat in any little trick you can come up with. Just watch the show, and maybe you’ll get your mother back alive.” His grin was nearly audible, and Clyde’s expression turned into a scowl. The man clearly didn’t know: you don’t ever threaten people’s mothers.

  At least this is the right floor,” Maxwell said. “We’re almost there. It should be right around this corner.”

  “What are we going to do when we get there?” Maddy asked.

  Maxwell’s laugh filled the empty hallway. “You’ll see.” His grin stretched from ear to ear. His moment had finally come.

  “Okay,” Maxwell continued. “If you see anyone coming, scream and run off. If they chase you, just keep running! As fast as you can, just run, okay?”

  “Why do you want me to scream?” Maddy asked.

  “I think it will help distract them. But you have to run really fast so they don’t catch you.” He felt a little nervous asking her to do this. “Actually, maybe it would be better if you just hid.”

  “Oh, no!” Maddy argued. “I will do it! I think it will be fun! And I haven’t done anything wrong, right?”

  “No, of course not!” Maxwell exclaimed. “You’re perfect!”

  Maddy blushed.

  “Here it is!” Maxwell said, shifting his focus away from his lovely companion. The door was right in front of him. Excitement surged through his head and he began to feel a bit giddy and nervous at the same time. “You stand watch out here, Maddy. And remember what I told you!”

  He opened the door, surprised to find it unlocked.

  “Oh,” he gasped as the lights came on around him. His eyes narrowed in on the pencil immediately, hanging on the wall in front of him in a beautiful case. “He must have so much power he doesn’t need to wield it anymore,” Maxwell whispered. “Why else would he keep this wonderful tool in a box like this?”

  He stepped forward, but froze when suddenly Maddy began to scream. This was not good. Time was running out.

  Maxwell leaped forward and pulled the frame off the wall. There was no time for his original plans. He pulled out the three extra pencils – which he had planned to use as decoys – and tossed one on the desk. Maybe John would think that only the frame had been stolen. He slipped the frame into his bag and darted out into the hallway.

  In front of him stood the biggest black man he had ever seen. Bulging muscles, shiny bald head, and a glare that would wither a winter death cactus: it was Quin, John’s protector. The glue must not have worked – or else Quin was even more powerful than he realized. Maxwell’s biggest fear had come true.

  “You were in my office,” the man said. “I think you should come with me.”

  “No!” Maxwell replied shakily. He didn’t want to go with this man in the slightest. “I’m going home, you horrible person!”

  “Maxwell!” Maddy scolded. “Don’t be rude!”

  “Sorry, sir,” Maxwell said penitently, “but I am unable to go with you at this time.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice about that,” Quin replied calmly, whipping out a pair of handcuffs. Then next instant, Maxwell found himself thoroughly bound. He glanced over at Maddy.

  “She’s a girl!” he protested. “You can’t tie her up! What happened to chivalry?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quin answered. “But you can come this way.”

  Maxwell scowled and tried to cross his arms, but the handcuffs made this impossible. Quin dragged him out into the hallway.

  “We just need to stop by a different section of the building and grab another problem so we can get all of our challenges in one place,” the man stated.

  “That doesn’t even make any sense,” Maxwell said huffily. “You can’t keep me like this. I get one phone call! I am going to call the police!” He couldn’t believe the nerve. He knew that Quin was a big, scary man, but hadn’t expected this kind of abuse at his hands.

  “You were breaking and entering,” Quin replied, “and trespassing. I’ll call the police for you. This way.”

  They turned down a hallway to see
another man coming towards them.

  “Boris!” Maxwell said. “I mean, who are you?”

  Boris shot a glare at Maxwell. “I can’t find my keys to turn them in,” he said to Quin.

  “What were you doing in John’s office?” Quin asked.

  “Looking for my keys.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this guy took them and I thought he might leave them there.” Boris crossed his arms and turned his attention back to Quin.

  “Perla stole them from me!” Maxwell complained. “It’s not my fault!”

  “It’s your fault I got fired,” Boris said sullenly. “My little diversion didn’t work and I got fired. You’re a weasel, Maxwell, and tell Maddy I hate her.”

  Maxwell gasped. He had never heard anyone say anything so cruel.

  “Maddy,” he said, turning to the woman next to him. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying. He’s just trying to be mean.”

  “Who is Maddy?” Quin asked.

  “His imaginary friend,” Boris replied.

  “Ah.” Quin nodded.

  “Cover your ears!” Maxwell said loudly to Maddy. “These men don’t know what they’re talking about.” He turned his back to Quin and reached out to awkwardly cover Maddy’s eyes with his handcuffed hands.

  He heard Quin snap another set of handcuffs on Boris and then order Maxwell’s first cousin once removed to come with him. How many sets of handcuffs did this guy carry around with him anyway?

  “I won’t,” Maxwell said stubbornly when Quin ordered him to come. “Not until you apologize to Maddy.” He turned to look at Quin’s raised eyebrow.

  “Sorry, Maddy?” Quin asked.

  “Close enough,” Maxwell muttered, and followed Quin and Boris down the hall.

  All of the canisters had been pushed through the Doors, and John had, of course, won the race. Kaia twiddled her fingers and pushed her glasses up her nose. Last they had heard, potential hostiles were heading towards the Door Room.

  “What are we supposed to do now?” Kaia asked