by Jaide Fox
* * * *
The sun was high in the sky when dirt flew from the ground in a fine spray of grit and grass. The earth depressed under a heavy, unseen weight. There was a whining hiss of steam, and then a door appeared from nowhere, folding outward to become a thick, planed ramp.
Five men stumbled from the dim interior, blinking at the bright, summer sun.
Sweat popped out instantly on their skin. A cacophony of irritating chirps started up from deep in the surrounding woods.
Tor grimaced, looking around. “You landed us at a swamp, Galan.”
Galan shrugged, stretching, then rubbed his stomach lazily. “You said some place balmy. I was going by the temperature gauge on the ship.”
Tor grunted, rounding his shoulders to ease the kink in them. “Well, get to work, Kerel. I’d like to get back to my break this millennia.”
“I can’t even see the ship. How’m I supposed to work on it in stealth mode?” he asked irritably. He was always irritable. Kerel seriously needed to get laid.
“Same way you get around with your head up your ass,” Hauk said, laughing.
Kerel frowned when everyone joined in. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”
Tor chuckled, hitting the remote. The air flickered, wavering, and the ship flashed into view. “I suppose it’s safe, since there doesn’t seem to be anyone around this federation forsaken place.”
“Thanks. A lot.” Kerel grumbled as he went inside to look for tools.
“Wonder what the locals look like,” Bradan mused, laying on the grass with his legs crossed. Galan laid down next to his brother, falling asleep and snoring almost immediately. Bradan swatted an insect from his arm. “They have blood suckers. Better turn on your protective fields.”
“Damn thing makes my hair stand on end,” Hauk muttered, switching his on. Sure enough, his hair rose off his forehead and frizzed.
Kerel came back out, arms loaded with brews and tools. He drank half of one before pulling the welder out.
“I never thought you one to worry about how pretty you look, Hauk. Think you’ll see some action here?” Tor asked, grinning as he switched his protective field on too. He popped the top on a brew and took a long swig, passing the remaining brews to his friends.
“I can hope,” Hauk muttered, taking a brew for himself.
“For all you know they’re covered with hair, smell like fonktol droppings, and have two pussies apiece.”
“Two wouldn’t be so bad. Gives me ideas.” Hauk chuckled, waggling his eyebrows.
“You ain’t got enough to satisfy one, Hauk,” Kerel piped up from under the hull, tinkering with the welder to get it started.
“You been checking me out, Kerel? I didn’t know you swung both ways.”
“Ha ha. That’s all I’m saying. Ha.”
“By the Federation, I hope they’re not that ugly. I haven’t seen a woman in...,” Bradan trailed off, frowning as he counted his fingers.
“Since we left. And it hasn’t been that long,” Tor finished for him. “You’re doing that wrong,” he said to Kerel, pointing his brew at the hull before taking a sip.
“Yeah,” Hauk piped up. “You’re holding it backwards.”
Kerel turned it around. He blinked up at Hauk. “No, it goes the other way. Maybe if someone wasn’t blocking my light....”
“I don’t think so,” Tor said, taking another swallow of brew, standing over Kerel. “The big end attaches to the ship.”
Kerel grunted, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing a streak of dirt. “Do you want to do this?”
“I’m satisfied watching you.”
“Asshole.”
“That’s Prince Asshole to you.”
“He’s right, Kerel. You’re never going to get the welder started that way. Put it on the metal so it sparks a reaction.” Hauk pointed his toe at the rough edge of the hole, finishing off his brew and starting on another.
“Shit!” Bradan said.
“What?” Tor asked, turning around.
“I spilled my brew. Any more?”
“I don’t know. Go inside and check the galley.”
He stood and brushed dirt off himself before going inside. A minute later he was back, white faced and wide eyed. “You won’t believe this.” He took a long breath, steadying himself. “We’re out of brew.”
“Huh?”
“No!”
“You’re shitting me!”
The commotion woke Galan. He snorted, coming up swinging. “Get off me fucker.” He looked around, confused when he didn’t hit an attacker. “Oh ... uh. What’s going on?”
“Okay, don’t have a shit fit, everyone. Did you check the cooling units and the cock pit?” Tor asked. “You weren’t gone very long.”
“I used computer when I couldn’t find any. She ran a scan and said Kerel took the last.”
“Fuck!” Hauk crushed the last brew container, tossing it into the ship. “That’s just wonderful. First the ship, now no brews and no women.”
“It’s not like we’ll die without it. Hell, that’s what got us in this fix to start with,” Tor said, looking morosely at the empty brews. It wasn’t that they habitually got snockered, but brew sickness would set in before long, and the only cure for brew sickness was more brew ... heaving his guts out held no appeal. He brightened suddenly. “There’s civilization here, right? Let’s go get some more.”
“My prince, I would follow you anywhere,” Hauk said, grinning as he slapped an arm across his chest and bowed.
Tor pushed him up the ramp and kicked a foot towards his ass, missing.
“What’s going on?” Galan asked, swaying as he got on his feet.
“We’re going to get you some fuel, fonktol,” Bradan said, pushing him. Galan pushed back, and they were soon on the ground, wrestling for dominance.
Tor rolled his eyes. “Get your asses off the dirt and get ready. Let’s see what this planet has to offer. Might as well enjoy ourselves while we’re here.”
An hour later they’d showered and put on their best clothes. Kerel was relegated to guard duty and fixing the ship.
“This blows,” he said. “You know I don’t like working sober.”
“Whatever. Don’t get any bright ideas and lose my remote or I’ll kick your ass,” Tor said, handing Kerel the remote to the ship.
Galan had marked a city not far away, and they made their way to it in a short time. They kept their protective fields on until they reached the edges of town.
Hauk switched his off first. “This place is a dump. No wonder they left trash in space. It’s everywhere down here.” He kicked a crumpled wad into the path of an oncoming metal vehicle, watching it dance in the wind.
“It’s a sign of higher life,” Tor said, grimacing.
“Not necessarily,” Hauk muttered beneath his breath.
“Hey, these surroundings remind me of those transmissions we received,” Galan said, elbowing past his brother to Tor’s and Hauk’s side. “I wonder if this is where they originated from?”
Tor looked around. Metal vehicles zoomed maniacally past them on the road, held in check only by markings on the road and a short stone curb. “You have a point. These vehicles look similar to those broadcasts. It could be the same place.”
Bradan whitened. “The area where we landed looked much like that study on recreation and mating. What was it? De-liv-er-an...?”
“We did fly over a river very similar and wide,” Galan muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he looked around.
“Do you think squealing like a pig is some mating call? I didn’t watch the transmission after the dominant male took the submissive.” Tor shuddered. He stopped, watching as a vehicle pulled toward a building and halted. A man, similar in appearance to themselves, swung the door open and got out, giving Tor an appreciative look before going into the building. Tor glared at him and the male looked away. “The males look much the same as we, but I like not how they look at us. I think perhaps their mal
es mate only with each other. If this planet was seeded as our own was, something went awry.”
“Then it’s natural to assume females would too. Go for each other that is,” Hauk surmised.
“That could be interesting,” Bradan said, grinning.
“Get your mind off your cock, Bradan. The females may have died out and the males resorted to each other afterward. It’s happened on planets before,” Tor said thoughtfully. “The males on Vulkahn are horny as two plebians in heat. I’ve no doubt they would do the same until the species died out completely.”
“I think only Kerel and Bradan qualify as plebians,” Hauk snorted.
“Shut up, smart ass,” Bradan muttered.
“Do you think it was wise leaving Kerel alone?” Galan asked.
Hauk laughed.
“Kerel has all the weapons on board at his disposal. Now, this building appears to distribute goods. Hauk and I will go in to procure some brew. You and Bradan, wait out here.”
“That’s fine. I have to piss anyway,” Bradan said, sauntering around the building.
“Me too,” Galan said, following.
Tor shrugged and opened the door, walking inside. Hauk followed, examining shelves of brightly colored packages.
Tor turned to an elder man standing behind a counter. He appeared to be in charge. “Where is your brew?”
The man gave him a blank look, his mouth dropping open slightly. Tor tried not to glare at him. Would every male he encountered stare at him like some juicy piece of meat?
“You don’t have your translator on,” Hauk said, picking up a package and sniffing it.
“Shit! I forgot the universal language hasn’t reached this far.” Tor pressed the centerpiece of the necklace he wore before trying again. “Where is your brew?” It garbled his words a few times before he finally managed to speak in a language the man understood.
The old man gave him a suspicious once over, making him feel immediately better about his sexuality. “Brewskies are over there,” he said, pointing toward the back.
“Hauk, keep your mind off your stomach and grab some brew.” Tor turned back to the old man, swaying a little from turning his head too quickly.
“You smell like you’ve already had a few. Against the law to sell to a drunk,” he said, chewing a lump in his mouth before spitting into a cup.
What kind of barbarous planet was this? Brew was for special occasions, though this man could not know he was on his break. And he was not ... drunk? “I’m not snockered,” he said, slurring the words. Okay, perhaps he was a little. Brew was notoriously hard to get out of the system. He still had to look forward to brew sickness ... eventually. He was feeling woozy, but he thought maybe the heat was just getting to him.
Hauk came up and set two sets of six brews down on the glass counter. They looked like the ones in the broadcasts he’d seen of ugly, squat, brownish creatures sitting in swampland spouting the name of the brew. That only confirmed how strange these barbarians truly were.
“You sure that’s enough?” Tor asked.
Hauk shrugged. “Probably not. The men here are puny. But we don’t need any more brew. I’ve about had my fill.”
“True. How much?” he asked the man.
“Sixteen bucks.”
Tor blanched. “For brew?” He fished around in his money pouch and withdrew a credit disk, slapping it down on the counter.
“Don’t take no credit cards in here. Checks neither. Cash only.”
Tor frowned, slipping the credit disk back in his pouch, and pulled out a handful of fed-units.
The old man’s eyes gleamed. “Y’all ain’t from around here, are you?”
“No. We’re from Vulkahn,” Tor said absently, counting out his fed-units.
“That’s what I figured. I know all about trekkies. My daughter’s one. These real?” He picked one up and bit it. “Tastes like it.”
Tor and Hauk gave him a disgusted look as the fed-unit came away with a brownish coating. “Of course they are. This enough for the brew?”
He snorted, laughing. “Looks good to me.”
As they turned to go, a whining blip ruptured the air. Tor and Hauk nearly jumped out of their skins.
“What the hell was that?” Hauk shouted, grabbing the brews as he led the way outside.
They rounded the corner just in time to see Galan and Bradan--their hands bound behind their backs--being stuffed inside a metal vehicle with red and blue flashing lights atop the conveyance. A man in dark blue spared them a narrow eyed glance before slamming the door and settling inside.
“Fuck me,” Tor muttered in stunned breathlessness.
“Where do you think they’re taking them?” Hauk asked Tor.
The old man had followed. “They’ve been arrested, numbnuts. They’re probably taking them to jail.”
Hauk gave Tor a look. He didn’t need to say anything--they were both thinking the same thing.
They were in deep shit.
“How do we get them out?” Tor asked.
The man looked at them like they were fonktol brains. “You bail them out. With money. Not those.” He pushed the fed-units away. “You need to go to the bank and exchange the jewels for cash.”
“Where is this ... bank?” Tor asked, stuffing the fed-units back in their pouch.
“Round that way.” He gave them directions and they were soon off.
Tor only hoped this bank wouldn’t give them trouble with the fed-units. So far, this planet had been worse than boring, and he hadn’t seen the first female to even make it bearable. If Kerel didn’t get his sports rocket fixed.... His hands tightened with the impulse to strangle him.
The thought of no women alone was enough to sober him and foul his mood. There damn well better be something entertaining here, he thought, trudging alongside Hauk. Kerel and Hauk both needed their asses kicked for fucking around.
“We could try breaking them out of jail, like in those ... uh ... Westens,” Hauk said, as if reading his thoughts.
“I see no cowboys here, though it’s almost dirty enough to be a Westen. It could be amusing. We might try that later. I’m tempted to let them stew awhile for what they’ve done.”
“Who knew you could be arrested for pissing?”
“Who indeed. This is a strange planet. Similar to the transmissions, and yet much different,” Tor said. “There’s the bank he spoke of. Let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah. Right. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Tor looked up at the faceless, glass facade. “You’re not the only one.”
An excerpt from Sexdroids, a futuristic romantic comedy:
THE SEXDROID
Earth, AD 2193
Sabin Grey had gone undercover before, many times. In fact, he was damn good at his job ... but he’d never gone under as an android, and he entertained a good deal of reservations about whether or not he could pull it off.
“Well? Are you going to answer me or not, Grey?” Assistant Director Hartley asked as he lounged behind his desk, an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips as if he was trying very hard to repress it.
Sabin grunted in response. If he hadn’t known better, he’d suspect Hartley was setting him up for some sort of practical joke, but Hartley wasn’t exactly the type to play juvenile games with his people, even off duty. Considering the case his boss had just dumped in his lap, it seemed even less likely that there was some sort of prank in the offing. It wasn’t every day one of their top scientist’s came under review for treason.
All the same, something was up. Hartley was the kind of guy that could watch the Stooges with a poker face and at the moment he looked as if he was going to explode if he didn’t laugh. Sabin wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what it was, but he was afraid he was about to.
Wondering if there was something about the case itself that Hartley thought he was going to find particularly unpleasant, he punched the button on the case file once more, using the stylus to go through the file and surve
illance photos. Emily Shue. Loner. Work and lab at home. Animal lover. He clicked to the next file and studied the image that popped up; Lips turned up at the corners, almost smiling as she chewed her pen. Pert nose with a dust of freckles and long, curly hair climbing down her shoulders. Blonde.
Trouble. Definite Trouble. Maybe that was what Hartley found so humorous—the idea of throwing Sabin in with a babe that looked like this when he was going to have to nail her if it turned out she was a traitor.
It wasn’t the sort of thing he’d find amusing, but who knew what an undertaker like Hartley would find funny?
“She doesn’t look like a traitor, she looks like--”
“The girl next door?”
Sabin nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
“Don’t let her appearance fool you. She’s been evading our surveillance for weeks. Head office wanted to go ahead and bring her in for the treatment, and then we found out her grandmother had ordered her a sex--I mean, a companion droid.”
Sabin leveled a dark look at Hartley, who chuckled and ignored him.
Well, there it was, the funny part, and it hadn’t taken nearly as long to get to the punch line as he’d thought it would. Strange thing was, he still didn’t see the damned humor in it. “What if I say no?”
“You like your job here, correct?”
Sabin sighed and shut down the case file. No wonder Hartley had been wearing that cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. “I don’t have any choice in this, do I?”
“No.” Hartley straightened, his aged face solemn now. “Jokes aside, this is serious. Someone’s been leaking our dimensional jump technology to the UAN. You know as well as I do we can’t afford to let this get out. Emily Shue is the keystone to the project. The breach has to be stopped, Grey, and you’re my best man.”
Hartley was right. Far too much valuable information had been stolen already and it was beginning to look like they were going to lose their edge on this project if they couldn’t find the leak and plug it. Despite his reservations, he knew it was his duty to the country to find out if she was passing information to the other side.
