Space Team: The Wrath of Vajazzle

by Barry J. Hutchison

  Cal’s gaze went from the coat to a door a little further along the hallway. He made a move towards it, but Mech blocked his path. “I wouldn’t,” the cyborg said.

  Cal stared at the door, as if he could force his eyes to see right through the gloss-painted wood. “What, are they in there?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I really want to know.”

  Mech nodded. “They’re in there. But you don’t want to see.”

  Cal rocked back on his heels, his chest feeling suddenly tight. “Right. Right. Are they… Is it bad? How did they… How did it happen?”

  “My guess? Suicide. Overdose of something, there are empty packets all round the place. Probably saw what was happening with the bugs, and didn’t want to have to deal with it. They went together. Peacefully, it looks like, in each other’s arms.”

  Cal reached for the door handle. “Oh. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Then something got in and ate both their faces off.”

  “Jesus!” Cal yelped, leaping back from the door like he’d been electrocuted. “What the Hell would have done that?”

  “Nothing we want to stick around for,” Mech replied. “I say you get what we came for, and we get the fonk outta here.”

  “Yeah,” said Cal, brushing his fingertips against his parents’ bedroom door one last time. “Yeah, let’s go with that plan.”

  * * *

  Cal lovingly set his guitar on top of his bed in the Shatner’s cramped sleeping quarters, and resisted the urge to tuck it in. It wasn’t particularly valuable, and he only knew four chords, but that instrument had brought him more action in high school and his two-and-a-half weeks of college than he could even remember.

  Next to the guitar, he placed the one other object he’d taken from the house. It had been standing on his bedside table, in the same spot it had occupied for the past nine years. He looked at it for as long as he could bear, then turned and almost tripped over the suitcases.

  He had been midway through packing up the clothes he had left at his parents’ house, when he’d had a better idea. One quick hop in the ship had brought them to the local mall, and after checking some of the abandoned clothing stores for bugs, he’d gone shopping.

  Loren had grabbed herself several new outfits, too. Even Miz, who was taller than the average human by a clear foot, had managed to find one or two pieces that fit. They didn’t fit well, of course, but she’d be able to squeeze into them if it came to it. Taking them back off, however, would be much more challenging.

  Now, there was just one thing left to do. It was the whole reason for coming back, if he were honest. He just hoped he was strong enough to do it.

  The ship gave a jolt.

  “Cal, we’re here,” called Loren from up front.

  “Great! Just coming!” said Cal, his voice filled with far more enthusiasm than the rest of him.

  He picked up the cuddly rabbit toy from beside his guitar.

  He kneaded the fabric in his hand, then brought it to his face and inhaled deeply.

  And with that, Cal turned towards the door.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Cal stood alone on a hillside, on a patch of damp grass. He’d always prided himself on his ability to just… talk. No matter the company, no matter the circumstances, he always had something to say. Not always the right thing to say – that was actually pretty rare – but always something.

  Until now.

  The slab of black granite standing upright in the grass dared him to speak, but the words wouldn’t come – were afraid of coming, for fear of what else they might bring with them.

  He looked at the dates, their gold leaf faded by rain and time. Not that he needed to look, of course. They were forever burned into his heart.

  “Jesus, nine years.”

  The words came out on their own, catching Cal by surprise. He glanced around, like he was worried anyone else might have heard, but the Shatner stood down at the bottom of the hill, beyond even Miz’s earshot.

  “Hey, Princess,” he said. “Sorry I haven’t been to visit in… well. You know.”

  He tried to look at her name, but his eyes refused. They went to the soft toy in his hand instead. “How you doing, anyway? Good, I hope. Happy.” He smiled, making his eyes blur. “You were always happy.”

  Another few minutes passed before he could speak again. He cleared his throat, trying to loosen it off. “Things have been pretty crazy here. I’ve been to space! Actual outer space! Aw, man, you’d love it. The stars and everything.” He laughed. “I mean, I throw up pretty much all the time, but you were always tougher than me, right?”

  He nodded and swallowed again.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice a whisper on the wind. “You were always tougher than me.”

  He squatted down, picking loose flecks of fluff off the soft toy. “I brought Miss Flopsy. Grandma found her under the bed after you… After the…”

  Cal shook his head, refusing to continue any version of that sentence. “Hey, say ‘hi’ to her and Grandpa if you see them, OK? Tell them I’m sorry about their porch.”

  It took all his effort to set Miss Flopsy down on the grass, her back propped up against the headstone. Only then did his eyes agree to shift upwards to the name. Lily Elizabeth Carver.

  Cal kissed his fingertips, then pressed them against the ornately carved first L. “I miss you so much,” he whispered.

  His gaze shifted up a fraction, to the other name chiseled into the granite. Caroline Carver. “Both of you.”

  Cal stood up. He inhaled deeply, then wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “You two look after each other, OK?” He cast a glance back at the ship. “I’m going to be going away for a while. I’ve made some new friends. Lily, you’d love them. Caroline, you’d totally hate them.”

  He brushed his fingertips across the smooth top of the headstone. “I’ll see you guys later, OK?”

  Cal turned. He’d only gone a few paces when he stopped. “Oh, and if either of you happen to bump into Tobey Maguire – you know, the actor? Tell him I said, ‘hello.’”

  * * *

  Loren turned in her seat as Cal arrived back on the flight deck. “You do what you had to do?”

  “Sure did!” said Cal. He was wearing what he knew was an obviously fake grin, but couldn’t find a way to turn it into something more convincing. “All done.”

  “What is this place, anyway?” asked Miz, flicking her eyes to the view-screen.

  “Nowhere important,” said Cal. “We’re done here.”

  “So, we can go now? We can get off this shizzhole?” asked Mech.

  “Yes!” said Cal, flopping into his seat. “And no. There’s just one tiny thing I still want to do first.”

  Mech grunted. “Oh great. What now?”

  “Ladies, gentlemen, mysterious shapeshifting entities, fasten your seatbelts,” said Cal, his smile finally hitting its stride. “Space Team is going to Disneyworld!”

  “What’s Disneyworld?” asked Miz. “Is it a planet?”

  “It’s a planet of fun!” said Cal. “Except it’s not a planet, no.”

  “So what is it?” asked Loren.

  Cal pulled on his seatbelt. “As you’ll soon discover, it’s only the most magical fonking place on Earth!”

  * * *

  Cal stood just inside the main gate of the Magic Kingdom, feeling like he might have oversold things a little. He’d never seen so many dead bodies in one place before, and the few that he had seen hadn’t looked anything like these.

  “This is the most magical place on Earth?” asked Mech.

  “Well, obviously it’s not normally like this,” said Cal. “There’s usually music and people dressed up and, you know, far fewer dismembered corpses lying around the place.”

  He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Anyway, who wants to go on Space Mountain?”

  Mech scowled. “So, I guess w
e’re back to adding ‘space’ before everything, are we? I’m warning you, man…”

  “That’s its name,” Cal said. “It’s called Space Mountain. It’s a roller-coaster, but in the dark. I’ve never been on it, because I have some issues with motion sickness.”

  “We noticed,” said Loren.

  “But I’ve heard it’s a lot of fun, and since this is probably my last chance…”

  “Shh!” The hair on Miz’s neck stood on end. She turned her head, her ears raising. “Someone’s here.”

  The others glanced around. Nothing moved but the occasional corpse-feasting crow.

  “Is it, by any chance, a six foot tall talking mouse?” whispered Cal. “Because, believe it or not, that’s totally normal.”

  “Mech, what have we got?” asked Loren, drawing her blaster.

  “Lot of life signs,” said Mech, checking a readout on the scanning device built into his arm. “Bugs, mostly, but a few infected, too.”

  He tapped the display. “Wait. Huh.”

  “Huh?” said Cal. “What’s ‘huh?’ I don’t like ‘huh.’”

  Mech’s arm whirred as he pointed along Main Street USA. “That’s ‘huh.’”

  There, beyond the far end of the street, swarming out of Cinderella’s castle, were people. Lots of people.

  Lots and lots of people.

  “They look… annoyed,” said Cal.

  “They’re all infected. Got bugs inside them,” said Mech. “We should go.”

  “Oh, man, but I wanted to take you on It’s a Small World,” said Cal. “Seriously, it tells you everything you need to know about the planet Earth. It’s like Epcot, but all covered in five minutes by dancing robot dolls. You’d love it.”

  “Maybe another time,” said Mech. They turned towards the gates, only to see a horde of people thronging past the Shatner, their mouths snapping hungrily at the air.

  “That’s not good,” said Loren.

  “Aw, man. You can say that again,” Mech groaned.

  “I don’t know what you’re worried about, you’re a robot,” said Cal.

  “Cyborg,” Mech corrected.

  “Same thing.”

  “No,” said Mech, turning to face him. “It ain’t. How many time do I have to tell you? I’m only part robot. I can still be infected, just like any of you. I mean, yeah, it’s less likely, because I’ve got less flesh for them to bury under, but I ain’t safe. None of us are--”

  “Uh, hello?” snapped Miz. “Hundreds of zombie bug people about to kill us?”

  The people outside the park began hurling themselves over the gates. Mech had torn one of the turnstiles right out of the ground, leaving a wide path that was now letting the crowds rush in.

  “In hindsight, I probably should’ve brought a gun,” said Cal.

  “You ain’t got a gun?” hissed Mech.

  “No! You never let me have a gun,” Cal pointed out.

  Miz flicked out her claws and set her jaw. “I’ll deal with them.”

  “No!” said Loren. “Don’t get close. They’ll infect you.”

  “Closing at our back, too,” said Mech. Sure enough, the other horde was now halfway down Main Street USA, and coming up fast.

  “This way,” Cal urged, racing towards a store to the left of the street. “We can go through here and get out behind them.”

  Mech, Loren and Miz hurried after him. “Great. Then what?” asked Mech.

  Cal puffed out his cheeks and shrugged. “Haunted Mansion, maybe?”

  Miz sniffed the air just as Cal reached the store’s front door. The infected horde was coming up fast, hands clawing, teeth gnashing furiously. “Wait!” she yelped, but the warning came too late.

  Cal pushed open the door and stepped onto a carpet heaving with fat, black insects. Loren caught him by the back of his waistcoat and yanked him clear, just as Mech stepped in, a jet of fire erupting from his right arm.

  The bugs shrieked and squealed and howled as they ignited. Mech swept his arm higher, driving the flame deeper into the store. Novelty hats and over-priced plush toys were engulfed as the fire caught hold, quickly becoming an inferno.

  “Look out!” Loren called, raising her blaster and opening fire on the first few rows of… Cal wanted to say ‘people’ but up close he could tell they weren’t people at all. They had been, once, but now they were something else. Something less.

  Cal and Miz turned just as the other mob came rushing up to join the fun. “You had to take us here,” Mech snapped. “We couldn’t just have left when I said we should. Oh no.”

  Before Cal could reply, the world exploded. At least, that was how it felt. Searing heat and blinding light erupted around them, and for a moment, Cal wondered if Mech had decided that enough was enough, and hit some sort of self-destruct button.

  The noise was immense, like an earthquake at a Guns ‘N’ Roses concert. It filled Cal’s head, shaking him through to his bones and completely redefining his understanding of the word ‘loud.’

  After the fire and the light came smoke, thick and black and choking. Cal was coughing and spluttering through it when he realized he was lying on the ground. He clambered to his unsteady feet. The world had fallen silent again, but the high-pitched screaming in his ears insisted otherwise.

  “Loren? Miz? Mech?” he called, coughing out each name.

  “Here.” That was Mech’s voice. He sounded completely unfazed by whatever the Hell had just happened.

  “Yeah, over here,” said Miz from somewhere else in the smoke. It was starting to thin a little now, and Cal could just make out the wolf-woman’s outline.

  “What about Loren? Has anyone seen Loren?”

  “I’m here. Mostly in one piece, I think,” said Loren from over on Cal’s right.

  Cal sighed with relief. It came out as a cough. “Great. What about the bug-people?”

  “Dead,” said Mech. “All dead. Every last one.”

  Cal blinked through the settling soot. “What? How? Was it you? Did you do that?”

  Mech shook his head. “Not me,” he said. He extended a metal finger and pointed it straight up. “Them.”

  Cal looked up, just as the smoke was pushed aside by the thrusters of a ship coming in to land. He cheered when he spotted the logo painted on the spacecraft’s underside. It was the now all-too-familiar logo of the former soda company turned galactic government.

  “Zertex! Great. I love those guys!”

  Miz leaned past him to look at Loren. “That was sarcasm, by the way.”

  “Yeah. I know,” said Loren. “You don’t have to say it every time. I do understand what sarcasm is.”

  “I ain’t no fan of Zertex, but they’re better than being torn apart by bug-people,” said Mech.

  “That’s the spirit!” Cal said.

  They backed away, making room for the ship to touch down. It was a small, sleek fighter craft, less than half the size of the Shatner. Its landing feet squelched through the partially incinerated remains of the infected, crushing torsos and sending blackened heads rolling in all directions. With a final hiss of landing thrusters, the ship settled on the scorched surface of the street.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Miz. “I guess we attack them, right?”

  “Well, technically they did just save our lives,” Cal pointed out. “Let’s at least listen to what they have to say before you turn their insides into their outsides this time.”

  Miz grunted. “Spoilsport.”

  A landing ramp descended below the ship. Three soldiers marched down it in unison – a male officer and two female grunts.

  The officer was short and stocky, with a head that attached directly to his shoulders without so much as a hint of a neck. He nodded curtly at Loren while his companions brandished their blaster rifles in a way that was calculated to look as menacing as possible without verging into over-the-top levels of ridiculousness.

  “Gunso Loren. So good to see you a
gain.”

  “Legate…”

  “Filson,” said the officer, curtly. His head was almost completely square, but with a slight bulge on top, like a box containing something just a little bit too large to properly fit inside. His eyes were wide apart – he could’ve squeezed a whole other face between them, Cal reckoned – and his mouth was tucked down near the bottom of his head. Where his nose had got to was anyone’s guess.

  Cal stepped forward. Both the troopers’ guns immediately locked onto him. He ignored them. “First up, nice to meet you, Filson. Any friend of Loren’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Oh, we’re not friends,” said Filson. “In fact, I fully intend to arrest or kill her, depending on the choices she makes in the next few minutes. I intend to arrest or kill you all.”

  “OK, we’ll get to that part shortly,” said Cal. “Secondly, I wanted to say thank you for blasting all those zombie bug people to pieces. I – we – really appreciate the save. I have to admit, it was looking a little hairy for a little while there. It’s lucky you came along when you did.”

  “Personally, I’d have loved to watch you all perish, but President Sinclair would be disappointed if I didn’t bring back at least one of you in one piece,” said Filson.

  “Oh, and thirdly,” said Cal, his smile shifting from ‘friendly’ to ‘unfriendly’ without apparently changing at all. “I know we just met, and you don’t know any of us particularly well, so I’m going to let you off this one time – but don’t ever threaten me or my friends again.”

  Filson snorted. It was quite impressive, considering his lack of nose. “Oh, I wasn’t threatening, Mr Carver,” he spat. “I was making a statement of fact. I plan arresting you or killing you. I’ll let you choose which.”

  Cal opened his mouth to reply, but Filson held up a hand. “But I wouldn’t take too long to think about it, or I may just have to decide for you.”

  Mizette growled and moved to lunge, but Loren stepped in front of her. “Miz, don’t,” she warned. “There are too many of them.”

  “Ha! There are three of them,” said Miz, extending her claws. “That might be too many for you, but I could fight them with my eyes closed.”