by Jay Key
The ship rocked again. Duke and his seat parted ways.
“Damnit.”
He climbed back into his chair and feverishly searched for his buckle without success.
“Fitting. Let’s see if I can settle her down.”
The view screen was now completely engulfed by the planet with the odd-shaped continent front and center. Ishiro pointed to the heart of the southern landmass.
“I see it, buddy. A city. Doesn’t look like a megalopolis, but definitely civilization. Oh look, there’s another one on the top half. And a few more sprinkled in. Maybe this isn’t some deserted wasteland. Any ideas?”
Ishiro’shea shook his head.
“There seems to be a bit more cover around the first one. I think it makes the most sense. We have to chance it, right? Thoughts? Alternative ideas?”
The ninja seemed to agree.
Duke manually input a final descent and landing sequence into the tattered remains of the control panel.
“No chance the scanners will be up soon, huh? Let’s hope this Podunk planetoid has an atmosphere suitable for two handsome bounty hunters with a boatload of questions.”
The Deus Ex Machina broke through the outer atmosphere.
Chapter 8
Soufflés
“I REALLY DO HATE THIS music.”
Ishiro’shea said nothing, as per usual.
“I also hate thinking that this will be the last thing we hear before we die. The place looks habitable enough from the bridge but without working instruments on the ship, it could be toxic land, for all we know. And what a time to leave the exploration enviro-suits at the dry cleaners! Anyways, if I haven’t told you before, little buddy...”
Ishiro’shea looked up at his dear companion.
“...if this is the end... it’s been a hell of a ride!”
The ninja nodded.
The elevator pinged as it hit the floor of the entryway hatch; the door swung open wildly, inviting the planet in for an atmospheric tea party. Duke and Ishiro held their breaths.
The Nova Texan counted down on his fingers. Three... two... one. The duo stepped out onto the grass-covered ground and took in the atmosphere of this new world.
Duke began to choke immediately. He fell to the ground, hacking and convulsing. Ishiro’shea stood above him, his eyes wide. And not choking.
“The air is so—clean. I hate it!”
The bounty hunter made it to his knees and eventually stood with the wobbly legs of a newborn giraffe. He clutched the supporting arm of his lifelong friend.
“Thanks, Ishiro,” he hacked. “This is going to take some getting used to. I need a smoke. There has to be some pollution somewhere. Tell me there’s some pollution somewhere.”
His companion did not respond. In fact, he looked as if he enjoyed the change.
“It’ll support us, at least,” he continued between coughs, “despite this major headache.”
Ishiro’shea inhaled even deeper and exhaled with a look of enjoyment.
Asshole, thought Duke.
“Do you think our parking job is good enough?” Duke pivoted to see the Deus expertly tucked away in a small patch of vegetation. He only counted four trees that had been severed in half by the hulking mass of the ship. He always strived to be eco-friendly.
“Let’s hope these folks can help us out—and they don’t find the Deus. I don’t think my lungs can stand this planet longer than a few hours.”
The ninja rolled his eyes.
“How can you stand this?” Duke wheezed. “Fine, maybe I won’t die from it—but at least let me adjust to it. You know how long it’s been since I’ve taken in something so damned clean?”
Ishiro’shea ignored the question—probably doesn’t know either, concluded Duke—and started to head towards the city.
“By my best estimation, we’re a few miles away. I’m hoping they can give us something useful.”
They left the lush foliage that had served as their landing pad and started the trek across the grassy plain. It was a simple place, very different to the harsh deserts of Nova Texas, or the urban chaos of Kelt, or the dank labyrinths of Erontia, or the caramel sky-piercing mountains of Oscavia. And very different to the alcohol-induced bedlam of Cyborg Joe’s.
The bounty hunters had been walking for less than an hour before Duke was able to see the outskirts of the city on the horizon. It was becoming much brighter and Duke was finally adjusting to the atmosphere. As they closed in, they could make out huts and other unsophisticated single-story dwellings.
“Primitives. As if this day couldn’t get any worse, we’ve landed amongst some backwards aboriginals that probably haven’t figured out basic plumbing or electricity or quantum-time manipulation. Or soufflés.”
Duke knew soufflés were often perfected after a civilization had mastered quantum-time manipulation—and ninety percent of all major civilizations never made it to the “Soufflé Stage.” So he didn’t hold that one against them.
“I’m sure these furry cavemen are either going to charge us with bloodlust and uncontrolled aggression—or they’re going to worship us as gods. Just in case, let’s be ready for both.”
Duke tapped the butt of his revolver, double-checking it was there. He didn’t need to do the same for Betsy; he could feel her on his back. Ishiro’shea flashed his katana. Duke liked that.
“What are you thinking, Ishiro? Stroll in nonchalantly? Sneak around and try to get into the city center undetected? It does appear to be a bit more advanced than this dump and, I’m sure, more likely to provide some answers.”
Ishiro’shea aimed his finger at an area about a ship’s length from the outermost hut—here the grass was twice as tall with pockets of messy, dense bushes. The thicker undergrowth extended well beyond the primitive homestead and appeared to end at the foot of the walled township.
“Think that’s good enough cover to circumnavigate this outpost?”
Ishiro was already in stealth position and darting towards the hedges.
“I forgot. You’re a ninja,” Duke chided himself. “Wait up!”
The two blended in with the flora and eased their way around the settlement. They encountered no one and no thing in the fields. The two sat, entirely concealed from any potential lookouts from the village, and peered through an opening in the foliage.
“Where is everyone? We are literally a stone’s toss away from this joint and I don’t see a soul anywhere. Deserted? Raided? Nah, not enough dead bodies.”
Ishiro thumped Duke’s shoulder. He rested his cheek on clasped hands.
“Not the worst idea, Ishiro. Maybe their species is nocturnal. Remember the nightfolk of Ruddia Gophp? Those cats were spooky. And their cats were even spookier.”
Ishiro motioned a slicing movement with his hand, signaling decapitation.
“Spooky and messy.”
“As much as I want to know about where all these hut dwellers are—which is absolutely not at all—I think our answers are gonna be right over there.”
Duke nodded in the direction of the city center.
“Let’s keep moving.”
The ornate doors appeared to stretch to the sky. There was no other way to enter the walled city, at least none that were easily identifiable to Duke.
“I dig the design. Imposing but artful.”
Ishiro’shea nodded.
“Maybe those village folk moved inside here and didn’t bother to knock down their old homes. This would be an upgrade, ya’ know. Although, not the most functional, if you think about it. You spend the dough building these giant walls but don’t have a single sentry tower? Not real thinkers, it seems; unless this joint was designed to keep people in—not out.”
The emerald-clad ninja gave a look that suggested he agreed with that assumption.
“I guess we knock, amigo?”
Ishiro ignored him and began to inspect the door meticulously, gently testing the façade for any weaknesses or clues. He crouched down and started to f
ollow along the base of the wall for a few yards.
“No time for that, Ishiro.”
Duke raised his right hand and struck the behemoth doors purposefully. A ringing thud vibrated out from the door—as loud as anything from the Trampling Death Robots’ holiday album.
Ishiro quickly returned to Duke’s side and slapped him on the shoulder. Oh, he’s pissed.
“What? We didn’t have time to sneak in. I want answers now—and maybe we’ve got a chance to get out of this godforsaken fresh air!”
Ishiro feverishly signaled in multiple directions with an angry jabbing motion.
Maybe we should have chatted first.
“Ishiro, look at this place. A fairly basic structure with a rinky-dink village in its shadows. How dangerous can it be? When we were scooting around in the bushes, I just kept thinking about how these primitives are probably going to be more scared of us than we are of them.”
Duke’s friend simply shook his head as the bounty hunter tried to rationalize his hasty decision.
“Seriously, buddy. Listen—we know they aren’t advanced and they obviously aren’t paying too close attention to us. They were too stupid to know that they should have some lookout posts along their wall. The more I think of it, my guess is that they finally discovered how to build something stronger than a wooden hut a few cycles ago—and moved the whole family in here. Nothing more, nothing less. Just another entry on the long list of primitive, backwoods, who-gives-a-damn planets.”
Ishiro pointed at the intricate metalwork adorning the oversized gates.
“Okay, maybe they didn’t just discover how to build these—apparently, they have some skill. But, I think you’re giving them too much credit. Look, they didn’t even send out a welcoming party—”
Duke’s gabbling was halted by a thunderous groan. The doors began to swing inward at a deliberate pace. The noise reminded Duke of the moans of Joe’s patrons after consuming a MechaBurger 8000.
“Why, hello there,” chimed a high-pitched voice. The ‘hello’ was elongated and seemed never to end. It was an unusually cheery tone.
Chapter 9
The Thing About Orbs
OUT FROM THE SHADOWS OF the doors appeared the deliverer of the jovial greeting. He was humanoid, but unusually gaunt; his drab blue skin clung to his skeletal frame. His quasi-ellipsoid face was as emaciated as his body, and hung slightly out in front of his chest; it was connected to a thin neck that jutted out from between his shoulders. His circular, murky eyes were devoid of pupils.
“I can assure you, my fine fellows, we are not stupid nor ‘backwoods’—as you call it. Nor are we dangerous. It does appear, however, that I am your official welcoming party. I’m afraid that we don’t have many visitors here; thus, we don’t spend too much time on preparing formal greetings and the like.”
As he came farther into the light, the cylindrical headgear balanced atop his cranium reflected the sun’s rays. It stood as tall as his narrow face was long, and was studded with petite blue jewels; they matched a single stone of similar color affixed squarely to his chin.
We have an over-accessorizer, thought Duke.
“That’s okay,” Duke said.
“Oh, I apologize again, my handsome visitors!”
He’s quite the chipper one. But it’s obvious he has keen observation skills.
“As you have probably noticed, I’m a bit rusty at this hospitality thing. Let me introduce myself, my new friends. I am High Priest Vernglet Wip, a proud member of the Order of the Orb, and appointed steward of this modest municipality in which you now find yourself. The gates of Dre’en are open and we are humbled by your presence.” The last phrase was uttered with an attempt at a more grandiose announcement.
Vernglet Wip knelt down with a simple bow, steadying himself against his gilded walking staff resting in his right hand. The jeweled chains dripping from his decorative breastplate rattled and jingled. Small spheres of gold hung from each chain, mirroring the larger sphere atop his staff.
“Where are we, exactly?”
“You are at the gates of the city known as Dre’en.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but this joint wasn’t on our itinerary. Can you tell us what... um, planet... we’re on?”
Vernglet paused for a moment. An uneven smile crept across his face.
“You have found your way to Neprius—and Neprius welcomes you.”
“Neprius, huh? Never heard of it.”
“Oh, you don’t say? I can’t say that I’m shocked, my ruggedly adorable off-worlder,” chirped Vernglet. “Like I said, we don’t get a lot of visitors to our beautiful home. Truly a shame, I suppose.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t look too bad—but this air… You gotta do something about this air.”
“Is it not to your liking?”
“It’s borderline toxic to my kind,” responded Duke.
Ishiro’shea shook his head.
“Interesting. What exactly is your kind?”
Duke began to answer but the priest cut him off.
“Please forgive me. I have been entirely rude and offensive. What is your kind—what are you thinking, Vernglet? You know better than that,” he muttered to himself. His voice quivered as if he expected to be tortured for his hosting faux pas. “I should’ve asked you the required questions that a respectable host extends to his guests. What are your names? Where do you visit us from? Tell me all about yourselves. Please.”
Once again, Duke’s retort was interrupted by the slightly feminine tone of their one-man welcoming party.
“I am so rude again! We are just standing here at the gate—come in, come see the city of Dre’en—the southern jewel of Neprius. I hope you like it!”
What an odd person. Duke glanced over at Ishiro and noticed that the ninja was diligently scanning every visible nook and cranny. The bounty hunter had known him long enough to tell that he was feeling skeptical about Dre’en—and possibly about High Priest Vernglet Wip.
“As we make our way in from the gates, you will see the road directly in front of us—yes? That leads straight into the heart of Dre’en and the Altar House of the Orb. I must admit, if I’m being honest—and we are honest people here on Neprius—there isn’t much to write home about for quite some time if we travel this path to the center. I hope that you can withstand our toxic air, my lovely friend. However, it will give us time to get more acquainted. Then, we can enjoy the marvels of our quaint town.”
The trio started down the uneven path. The priest’s prediction had been accurate—to the left and the right of the road, for as far as they could see, was nothing but dense forest. Duke noticed that Ishiro continued to examine their surroundings—never focusing on the road for more than a second at a time. Duke was impressed with the road itself—despite its wildly irregular stonework, the tops of each individual rock were polished to an almost mirror-like quality. But they weren’t slippery. I’m guessing the lady Neprians don’t wear a lot of skirts.
“So friends, as we were about to get to earlier, what are your names and where do you visit us from?”
“My name is Duke LaGrange,” the bounty hunter decreed boastfully; his chest puffed out. “Adventurer. Trailblazer. Poet. A true man of the universe.”
“Oh, is that so? I can see it. Definitely can see that. Very impressive.”
“This is my longtime friend and trusted sidekick, Ishiro’shea.”
“Hello, there Ishiro’shea, sidekick to the great Duke LaGrange.”
Ishiro bowed. Vernglet mimicked the movement to reciprocate the greeting.
“Don’t worry, Ishiro doesn’t say much.”
“And why is that? Does his species lack the ability to speak?”
“Vow of silence.”
“Then, Mr. Ishiro’shea, I commend you on this solemn vow of vocal condemnation. As the High Priest of the Order of the Orb, I too know about commitment. But tell me, travelers, where did you come from—and why did you choose our world as a place to visit?”
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br /> “The universe is our home,” Duke retorted. Only he knew that the line was plagiarized from a Willie’s World of Galactic Winnebagos television ad. (“The universe is our home, so make it yours... Now with flushing toilets compatible with up to 85 species!”)
“Interesting.”
“Our work takes us to many planets, and we’ve been doing it for so long that our birthplaces are almost a distant memory. Our ship back there is the closest thing we have to a home. But, if you must know, the story of yours truly started many cycles ago on a rugged, yet embracing, rock known as Nova Texas.”
“I see many similarities already between you and this Nova Texas in which you speak.”
Duke soaked in the unwarranted praise.
“Ishiro’shea is from a place known as Earth.”
“Earth, you say? Interesting.”
“Heard of it?”
“Um, no,” Vernglet hesitated. “I don’t think so. Yes, definitely a ‘no.’”
“Well, you nailed the best way to describe Earth. ‘Interesting.’”
“Do you not visit this Earth much? What do they have there that makes it so intriguing?”
“Wars, mostly.”
“But do they have great crops that reach to the sky?” Vernglet asked somewhat dramatically, with his arms reaching upward.
Peculiar question.
“Um, sure there are crops—I think. There used to be, at least. Not sure if they reach to the sky—but what do I know? Ishiro? You know anything about giant crops from living on Earth?”
Ishiro shrugged.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, just curious. I was a farmer before I joined the priesthood and I like to know that there are places out there with bountiful harvests for all. I apologize for sidetracking the conversation. So why did you two assuredly unrivaled cosmic explorers choose to come to Neprius?”
“Ya’ know, Vern—” Duke caught himself. “Can I call you Vern?”
“Whatever suits the great Duke LaGrange.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Duke caught Ishiro shaking his head at the compliments being heaped upon him.
