Karak Warrior

by Ruby Ryan

  I could have shifted the organic compound of ethanol-alcohol from existing atoms in my craft, but it would be dull and tasteless. I should have scanned the beer in Harry's bar. Another regret.

  One among many.

  I tried to shake my head, though I was in Karak form now. It was time to cast away the earthly desires I'd inherited in the past two weeks. I was a Karak scout, and needed to focus on the future.

  And the future was bright, as bright as the spires of Karak itself.

  I was thinking of what I would say to my superiors, and the Dominion Lord himself, when I heard a noise.

  Karak craft were machines perfected over millions of years. They rarely malfunctioned unless altered by something external, such as crashing into a satellite the way Arix had. But we were in an orbital transfer course, halfway to the orbit of Mars, and there were no human craft here. My computer had already scanned the system for noteworthy objects.

  So the noise I heard, in the back of my craft, was immediately alarming.

  Rather than reaching out with my consciousness--which could be a fleeting and dangerous thing when traveling close to the speed of light--I disabled my magnetic casing and rose from my seat. We still had six earth minutes until the cross-galaxy drive initiated; plenty of time to check, and if not then I could simply disable the scheduled drive start-up and plot a new course after.

  I bonded with the ship's computer and opened the door leading from my cockpit to the cargo bay. Crates of earth specimens were stacked within, tiny mammals and insects and bundles of fibrous vegetation that would give valuable information when returned to Karak. Had one of the small mammals made a noise? Somehow I doubted such a tiny thing could have done so.

  I moved into the cargo space, and stopped.

  The first thought that came to my mind was a human one, a phrase stolen from Leslie.

  Son of a bitch.

  3

  LESLIE

  I did something stupid.

  When I was halfway back to my cruiser, thinking about the paperwork I'd have to do in the morning, a flash of impulsiveness seized me and damned if I could ignore it. I sprinted back through the snowy woods, slowing only when Jerix's craft appeared.

  I didn't know why he hadn't seen me before, the way he always did. Maybe he was distracted preparing to depart. Or maybe he wanted me to come, and was afraid to say no. Whatever the reason, I hoped he remained otherwise occupied as I ducked underneath the craft and approached the cargo door. It was in the same place it was three days prior, when I'd helped him gather rabbits and birds to take back home. At the time, he'd made sure to tell me they would survive the journey, and would be kept in a zoo on his planet.

  And if they could survive the journey...

  I depressed the button on the side and climbed up into the room. Small crates lined the walls, filled with every manner of animal and plant and soil sample. A Noah's Arc in miniature. There were larger crates for larger animals, but Jerix hadn't wanted to spend the time hunting an elk or wolf, so they stayed empty.

  I closed the cargo door behind me, then crawled into the largest crate like an adult crawling into a kid's tree fort.

  The cage snapped closed behind me as if controlled by magnets. Alarmed, I tested the door; it wouldn't budge. There were no locks that I could see, but no matter how hard I gripped the carbon-alloy bars it wouldn't open!

  "Well, if my mind wasn't made up before, it certainly is now," I whispered in the small space.

  Maybe it was a good thing that I couldn't change my mind.

  Even though I was hunched over in a less-than-comfortable position, the alcohol in my blood was doing its job, and I quickly nodded off.

  I dreamed of traveling, of Rome, of martinis on some foreign beach.

  Before I could dream about traveling the galaxy, the ship suddenly rumbled and lurched. I yelped as I was thrown sideways into the bars of my crate. It must have been bolted to the floor or held in place by magnets, because it didn't budge in spite of my full 140 lbs slamming into the side. Then the direction shifted and I fell to the floor of the cage, flattened like a pancake. I tried to scream but it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, and the only thing that came out was a trickle of drool that crawled up my cheek and globbed into my eye.

  I've made a terrible mistake.

  I went through the full gamut of emotions as we left good ol' planet earth. First was fear for my safety; all I could picture in my head was the Challenger Shuttle blowing up shortly after takeoff, and the logical part of my brain didn't give a shit that this alien craft was undoubtedly safer. And like hitting the bottom part of a roller coaster, the fear shifted into excitement. I was traveling in a frigging spaceship. This was the kind of thing little kids daydreamed about. I was literally the first human to ever experience this, and that kind of excitement--and fame--could not be ignored.

  Yuri Gagarin: first human in space. Neil Armstrong: first human to walk on the moon. Leslie Hendrix: first small-town Wyoming cop to steal aboard an alien spaceship.

  I wished I could pull up the email client on my computer and brag to everyone in town.

  And that made me think of my friends. Harry at the bar, who had never been outside of Wyoming. Andy, who inherited the General Store when his dad died and always gave kids free candy when they couldn't pay.

  My father, alone in a nursing home over in Casper, his memory as soft and rotten as a dead tree after a rainstorm.

  Aside from acquaintances in town, I didn't have any real friends. Jo was it, and she was gone. I was awfully pathetic, a small-town cop running from her meager responsibilities the moment the town changed a little bit.

  And then I felt regret.

  Once the dam cracked, it burst open with true force. With full morning-after clarity I saw the results of my actions. The permanence of it all. I was still wearing my uniform and coat; I hadn't brought anything else with me. I didn't even said goodbye to anyone. Hell, who was gunna take care of my cat?

  Leaving earth wasn't exciting. It was the most goddamn terrifying thing I could imagine.

  Worse, what would Jerix think? Sure, he was friendly, but that was back on earth. Once he found me, what if he tossed me out the airlock? He might even have to do it if there wasn't enough fuel for the extra weight. Karak seemed meticulous like that. It might be his only option.

  Or worse: what if he didn't discover that I'd stowed away? I didn't know how long it would take to return to his planet, but it had to be longer than the time it would take for me to die of thirst back here. The rabbit in the crate next to me had a water-dispensing bulb mechanism attached to its crate that wasn't on mine. That would have been a smart thing to check before I crawled into the crate like a frigging idiot.

  I tried to scream again but nothing came out. It was still a struggle just to breathe.

  And as the regret and realization crashed over me, I began to cry. I couldn't sob properly, not with the elephant sitting on my chest as we exploded away from earth's gravity, but tears flowed from my eyes and ran sideways across my face. My chest heaved with false-sobs, pathetic little mewls that only I could hear. I would have given anything to undo my decision just then. To hop two hours backwards in time, cut myself off at Jo's two-beer limit, and give Jerix a normal goodbye. He didn't need a frigging key chain. A farewell beer at the bar should have sufficed.

  An eternity passed as I thought about everything I had done.

  Finally, as abruptly as the thrust had begun, it ended. I was lifted off the floor of my crate and floated gently in the small space, not quite sure what was happening.

  My nose hitting the roof of the cage jerked me back to alertness.

  I took several moments to catch my breath. And to settle my stomach! Weightlessness was cool for about five seconds, until my body decided it was unnatural and needed to vomit beer all over the cargo space. Thankfully I was able to get a hold of myself just before that happened.

  I rotated around until I faced the rabbit's crate, then
reached through the bars. I was too far away to grab the water bulb, which promptly ended any chance of me making the journey incognito. I would need to muster my courage and call for Jerix's help, and hope for the best.

  But that required action, and for now it felt good just to sit in silence and not do anything at all.

  When I was sixteen, my best friend heard from her brother who heard from his friend that Alexander Brooks had a crush on me. I looked up his number in the phone book, wrote it down on a piece of paper, and ran upstairs to call him. But instead, I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the phone. What if he didn't have a crush on me, and I called and made a fool of myself? Alexander Brooks would tell everyone he knew, and I would be the laughing stock of the school. That had seemed like the worst thing in the world, back then. Public embarrassment. And so I sat on my bed and stared at the phone and waited for a gust of courage to pick up my arms and dial his number.

  That's what sitting in the crate felt like. Once I made myself known to Jerix, there was no going back. The chain of events potentially leading to my death would have been initiated. And as I sobered up, I didn't think I had the willpower to do it.

  In the end, my decision was made for me.

  I heard a squeak, and turned to see the rabbit in the cage next to me squeezing through the bars of its cage. It fit through with minimal effort, and then it was floating aimlessly through the open air like a dandelion on the wind. The scene was funny, in a cruel sort of way. The poor animal wiggled its legs, trying to swim through the air, but all it did was spin and rotate.

  It hit the far wall gently, bouncing off and returning in my direction.

  "I feel your pain, little guy," I muttered as it neared. It was still spinning. And then something was floating behind it, almost chasing it, and as it rotated more I saw what it was.

  Specks of brown, like Coco Puffs, floated from its butt, one after the other. Within seconds there were a dozen pellets floating toward me, a shotgun blast of feces in slow-motion.

  "You've got to be kidding me..."

  Unable to go anywhere, I shielded my face. The pellets hit soft, smudging and breaking apart in the low gravity. One hit my temple and I cursed.

  The rabbit bounced off my cage, careening away at a new angle.

  The air was thick with the smell, tiny bits floating everywhere like dust. I yelped as it stung my eyes and was sucked into my nose and mouth. Maybe space travel wasn't as glamorous as I thought.

  Across the room, the door opened.

  Jerix floated inside, a thick beam of light about four feet tall and two feet wide, the glow of his light spreading in the space and casting new shadows. He took one look at me with his Karak gaze.

  Son of a bitch.

  I gave a nervous smile. "Hi."

  *

  Uncomfortable situations weren't my forte. I was a direct person. Hell, that's one of the reasons I'd become a cop: it allowed me to skip all the bullshit and get right to the point.

  But around Jerix, I was a teenager staring at my dang phone.

  Thankfully, he spoke first. What are you doing here? he said into my mind.

  I pointed. "You'd better get that guy back into his cage. Well, a different cage. One with thinner bars. Or maybe just a couple of air-holes. Critters like to poo when they're nervous."

  Jerix turned, his light shimmering like shards of broken glass. The rabbit's crate twisted and morphed, folding in on itself, until the bars were a noticeable degree closer together. The rabbit suddenly froze in mid-flight as if it'd been grabbed by an invisible hand, then moved directly at the crate, which opened for it. The door closed behind.

  "Now all you need is a shop-vac to clean all this crap and everything'll be good as new." I tried smiling again, but Jerix only hovered in place, leaving the feces particles floating in the air.

  What are you doing here, Leslie?

  I readjusted my arm, and winced. "It'd be easier to talk if you let me out. I don't bite."

  For a brief second, I didn't think Jerix would let me out. There was a new inflection to his voice inside my head, a tone that chilled me to the bone. Something harder than normal.

  Oh God, he was going to throw me out the airlock after all. Or worse: leave me in this poop-filled room for the rest of the trip.

  But then the door to my crate swung open silently, as if it had been unlocked all along.

  I groaned as I pushed out, stretching my limbs. And then my stomach lurched, because instead of stepping down to the ground I floated outward, parallel to the floor, and as I grasped for purchase on the ground all I accomplished was knocking myself higher into the air.

  "Ack!" I blurted, spinning like a drunk trapeze artist.

  And then the metal floor rushed up and punched me in the gut, knocking the wind from my lungs. I felt bits of rabbit poop fall around me like ash, the solid pellets rolling across the floor like brown marbles.

  Better? Jerix asked without a hint of sarcasm.

  "That's perfect. Girls love being kicked in the stomach." I pushed to my feet, fighting back another wave of nausea. Now that artificial gravity--or whatever--had been turned on, it was easier.

  Jerix remained in the doorway, unmoving.

  What are you doing here, Leslie?

  It was a good question. I was drunk and made a stupid mistake, was probably the most accurate answer, though saying that out loud was also the most embarrassing. People did a lot of stupid things when they were drunk, but this would probably win First Prize at the Stupid Fair.

  The regret I felt still stung, just behind my eyes like a migraine. I needed him to take me back to Wyoming. There was still time, I thought, and based on his less-than-giddy reaction to seeing me he would be happy to do it.

  "Let's go somewhere that doesn't smell like a zoo." I strode past him into the cockpit, and prepared to tell him to turn around.

  I stopped.

  The far wall was clear glass, showing a million stars of varying brightness. More than a million: billions and billions, Carl Sagan's voice echoed in my memory, some clustered so tightly that they looked like smudges of paint of a canvas until I focused on them and saw the space between. An impossible number of stars. And that was just in the direction we were facing.

  "Oh my God," I whispered, transfixed by the sight.

  I could feel the depth of them; it was a three dimensional phenomenon, sensing just how much space was between each blinking point of light. Something in my brain changed in that moment. Like when you stare at an optical illusion long enough and suddenly see it for what it truly is. My perspective was forever warped.

  What are you doing here, Leslie?

  I peeled my eyes away from the scene--Jerix stood in front of the door to the cargo bay, which was now closed. Even though his Karak form was a foot shorter, it felt like he loomed over me. For the first time since I'd seen him, that day outside the Jones cabin, I feared Jerix.

  "I don't know," I said.

  You should not have done this. Jerix pulsed angrily. Boarding my ship was a monumental mistake.

  And I knew I should tell him to take me home. To make a galactic U-turn and toss me out like week-old Chinese food. But as I tried to form the words, they would not come.

  I didn't want to go home, I realized. Not after seeing what I'd seen. There was so much out there.

  I will take you back, Jerix said, floating toward his cockpit chair.

  "No!" I stepped in front of him, though he could have passed through me if he wished. "I don't want to go back. Take me with you."

  You cannot come.

  "Sure I can," I insisted. "You've got a room full of animals you're taking back to Karak for study. I'm no different; just bigger, and smarter, and with a better personality."

  It is not so simple, he replied immediately.

  "Why not?" I stepped forward so that I looked down at him. "Give me one good reason why I can't go with you."

  It is forbidden, Jerix said. My superiors will--

  "Will wha
t?" I interjected, jabbing a finger at his photon form. "Execute me? Pfft. You've spoken at length about how your directive as a Karak scout included doing no intentional harm to an intelligent species. Even if you were in danger yourself. It's the reason Arix wouldn't kill Max and Liam in their shack. And it's the reason you can't just toss me out the airlock here."

  I hoped that last part was true.

  Jerix's form flickered strangely, a rainbow of light off an infinity of swirling photons.

  It is not so simple, he repeated. A new emotion clung to the words like paint, but I couldn't tell what it was.

  "And for the love of God, can you shift into your human form? It's creepy as all hell hearing you talk inside my head, and I'm seeing spots in my eyes the longer I stare at you."

  Jerix shifted immediately, every particle of his body falling apart and reorganizing into the body I'd known as Jamie. I felt the same girlish tingle as I did every time as I caught a glimpse of his nude body, chiseled with alien precision. Abs molded from clay. Arms and shoulders bulging with strength. And his cock hung long and limp beneath the V-lines of his pelvis, light coming from it like the rest of his immaculate body.

  Clothes manifested into place, and then the moment was gone.

  "That's better," I mumbled.

  "You are factually correct about the sanctity of life," Jerix said carefully, his human voice a deep rumble. "But your understanding of such a directive is shallow." He began to say more but then visibly stopped himself.

  "What?" I asked. "Tell me. Will you get in trouble? Is that it?"

  "No." He blinked and switched angles. "Why do you want to leave earth? You have a life and purpose there."

  "I thought you could read people's minds," I muttered, and Jerix shook his head.

  "You requested I remain out of consciousness, save for one-way telepathic communication. I have obeyed such a request."

  Well at least he was honest. I guess that came with the territory for a race that could read each other's minds. No secrets.