Repo Earth

by Jeff Walsh

  Bartl shouldered the rifle and took aim.

  “Slice it!” He yelled to Alvin.

  Chapter 4

  The tracker-rat spun to the left and slammed into the wall. A large crack formed and the rat attempted to push through. It failed. Quickly it reversed and slammed into the wall once more creating a larger hole.

  “It's trying to burrow into the wall,” Anthony bellowed.

  Bartl cocked his gun and the group heard it power up.

  The three spun their attention to the old man who, while aiming at the rat, was also aiming his extremely menacing gun at them due to their positioning.

  Just then an overwhelming weight began to pull on the three. It felt as if their limbs, even their bodies suddenly quadrupled in weight. Another moment passed and the weight grew. After only a second or two the trio collapsed under the pull and were pressed firmly to the floor.

  Alvin stepped forward and raised his arm.

  The three could barely see, but from their peripheral, they watched as Alvin's arm shot out and extended right over the top of them at lightning speed.

  They heard a small click, like metal striking metal, and felt the heaviness of their bodies lift almost immediately.

  “Nice shot Alvin,” Bartl said.

  “It was all thanks to my wonderful programming,” Alvin replied. “However, it was only made possible by your threatening and intimidating distraction.”

  The group stood and looked on as Alvin's arm began to retract slowly. They saw the silver tracker-rat skewered at the end of Alvin's morphed hand, which now came to a sharp point. From out of Alvin's arms came wires and cables that were now wrapped around and plugged into the rat.

  Bartl made his way down the hall toward Alvin and the others. He flicked a switch and the three heard his weapon power down.

  “Did we get it in time?” Bartl asked.

  Alvin remained silent for a moment.

  “The tracker-rat has been disabled,” Alvin announced. “The Central Core has upgraded their tech. It appears as though there were seven dummy tracking routines also being broadcast while the true one was buried within the operating noise.”

  “Well,” Bartl said. “It's about time those goons started using decent tech.”

  “I've scrambled the sequence,” Alvin said. “All traces they may have had on us now lead in 37,812 different directions.”

  “Good work as always,” Bartl said. “I'll run a sweep of the armory then return to the Astrometrics Lab for a short while longer. Escort these folks to the kitchen; they deserve a good meal after that.”

  With that Bartl turned and walked down the corridor a short way. He stepped through a doorway and was out of sight.

  “That's it?” Marcus said. “Not even a 'Oh hey you three, sorry for kidnapping you?'”

  “What was that just now?” Anthony chimed in. “I felt like I weighed a thousand pounds suddenly.”

  “I do apologize for that,” Alvin responded. “We didn't want any of you to be harmed so I temporarily shifted the gravity in the section where you were standing. I would've asked you to duck, but didn't have the time to allow you to respond. I will say that you recovered wonderfully after I lifted the grav pull.”

  The three stood silent for a moment.

  “What was that thing anyway?” Genny asked.

  “Apparently, the Central Core managed to sneak a tracker-rat aboard during our short stay upon Earth,” Alvin answered.

  “And that thing was dangerous?” Anthony asked.

  “The tracker-rat allows the Central Core to track and trace any course of any vehicle it's aboard,” Alvin answered.

  “Okay,” Marcus said. “I guess that sounds bad.”

  “It also allows them to send long range weapons across multiple galaxies with pinpoint accuracy should they need to destroy the vessel,” Alvin continued.

  “And that's worse,” Anthony said.

  “How'd that thing get on the ship anyway?” Genny asked.

  “What a great question,” Alvin responded. “It appears that the pulse fire from the cross-wings, during our short encounter on Earth, was meant to both destroy us and cause a distraction allowing the little critter to sneak aboard.”

  “And you're sure that was the only one?” Marcus asked.

  “The Platnuim IV's sensors are calibrated to detect tracker-rats,” Alvin stated. “However, our current arsenal requires special shielding that hinders the sensors in that section. But don't worry good friends, Bartl is doing a clean sweep of the armory so all should be fine.”

  “Should be,” Marcus said. Dizziness swept over him.

  “Is there anything else I can answer for you wonderful three?” Alvin asked.

  “More than you know,” Anthony replied. “But how about we just grab some grub?”

  “Wonderful,” Alvin announced. “If you'd please follow me, I'll escort you to our fabulous kitchen. It's a one of a kind across the cosmos and I believe the three of you will most certainly enjoy some delicious cuisine.”

  Anthony just shrugged as he looked to Genny and Marcus and the trio followed after Alvin.

  ҉

  “Man, Alvin, this is so good...really...best food I've ever eaten,” Anthony said. He shoveled more of the bountiful display into his mouth. “I was a little concerned after the arsenal and rat thing...but if you say we shouldn't be afraid...well then, I'll just keep pretending like I'm not terrified we're all going to die.”

  The group was sitting in the most elaborate kitchen they had ever seen. Genny and Anthony had managed to calm themselves after the rat chase. Marcus, however, was too focused on his ongoing dizziness to pay any attention to the food.

  “I'm glad you are enjoying it,” Alvin said. “The kitchen of the Platnium IV is fully equipped to prepare and serve any meal conceived from any planet. The good people at Gadgets, Gizmos, and Everything You Could Ever Want Company really out did themselves on this particular invention.

  “Using a stabilized black hole energy transmitter, and coupling together a spread of interstellar worm holes, the Buffet Master Control System aboard the Platnium IV is able to download, and recreate, every ingredient and recipe the universe over. The kitchen itself is quite impressive also, having been decorated in the art deco style of the early 1900's America, found on the planet Earth Mark I.

  “With a banquet table made of solid durillium, one of the most precious metals in the known universe, and inlaid cut gemstones from around the cosmos, there was no finer dining table. The most rare of all materials used is the large chunk of dirt like substance at the center of the banquet table. It's a rare piece of the very first created planet, Acrium, which was destroyed, of course, by the space dwelling dog known as Barky. Although dirt like in appearance, no civilized being would ever mistake the very rare piece of planet for dirt. The Platnium IV was designed to be the most elaborate space travel vehicle known to exist.”

  “Wait, that's not dirt?” Marcus asked after sipping a most fantastic tea in an attempt to quell his dizziness.

  “No, sorry earth man, it isn't,” said a very regal gentleman as he entered the room. “Although, from your perspective, I can see why it looks like dirt. The name is Taam, and I'm the captain of this most spectacular vehicle. Earlier you met my uncle, Bartlenum'betrakzit, but you can call him Bartl.”

  Taam flicked his head to the side and stroked his hand through his wavy, yet perfectly placed light brown hair. He smiled at Genny who, in response to Taam's flirtatious demeanor, gave a bashful smile back.

  “Hey,” Marcus said. “Ease up there. That's my wife.”

  “My apologies Earth man,” Taam brought his hands out from within his crimson trench-coat and swept it back. He brushed a bit of dust from his black trousers and took a deep bow. As he righted himself he reached up and with his left arm and plucked a wild lotus, which had just bloomed from the silvery vine traveling down his right sleeve.

  “A rare flower,” he said as he approached Genny. “With an aroma that s
mells like the joys of childhood.”

  He handed Genny the flower, gently lifted her left hand and placed a small kiss upon it. Angrily, Marcus was about to step in until Taam turned to him and repeated the process. He bowed, plucked the flower, and kissed Marcus' hand. Finally, Anthony noticed it was his turn, but before Taam could kiss his hand, Anthony began to shake the Captain's hand aggressively.

  “I must apologize,” Taam began, “on my world it is a customary greeting to present guests with the wild lotus of the Blizzarian mountains Jvoul III, ending with a gentle kiss upon the hand. If my actions have made you uncomfortable, I will return to my quarters and lash myself one hundred fold with the fangs of twenty dilar beasts.”

  “Oh no,” Anthony stuttered, “it was just that, I, uhh,” and before Anthony could finish his sentence, Bartlenum'betrakzit wandered into the room.

  “You do the flower bit yet?” Bartl asked of Taam, “And did that one,” he gestured toward Anthony, “get all fidgety?”

  Anthony snapped his gaze at Bartl upon hearing his words, and Taam burst into laughter.

  “Oh man, you should've seen your face,” he said. “I thought Marcus was going to punch me before I could even get to him, and you,” Taam said to Anthony, “you're right Bartl. I owe you five strips of jewel.”

  Genny stood from her chair, slightly chuckling at the situation.

  “What's going on?” She asked.

  “Oh, I really am sorry this time. This jacket is the Regalia Supreme. It's a pompous coat that's worn when greeting certain dignitaries across the universe. I won it in a game of harbak on the outskirts. Bartl and I made a little wager as to whether or not I could pull off a formal Central Core greeting. I almost got it, but Anthony freaked out. You know Anthony, sweaty palms,” Taam said pointing to Anthony's hands, “that's a sign of attraction on some planets.” Taam finished with a burst of laughter as he slapped his leg clearly pleased with himself.

  “I really am captain of this ship, and that really is my uncle,” Taam continued, “you're most certainly our guests, but I thought of no better way to lighten the mood after having your planet time-locked and repossessed. I will say, my addition of lashing myself with fangs was a bit over the top.”

  “Wait,” Marcus chimed in as he wiped Taam's spittle off the back of his hand. “That's right. I can't believe we forgot. What exactly happened to Earth?”

  “Mark II,” Bartl shouted out.

  “Oh not this again,” Marcus said as he threw his hands up in the air and collapsed back onto his chair.

  “It's alright,” Taam said, “they don't have to say Mark II every time. But to answer your question, your planet has recently become the center of intergalactic attention, which has caused it to become temporarily unavailable.”

  “What does that mean?” Anthony asked.

  “It means the great government of the universe, the Central Core, has issued a repossession order on Earth,” Tamm answered. “They used a process we call time-locking. Only the three of you managed to escape. And it's going to take quite a bit of work for us to get it back to spinning again.”

  “Wait a second,” Marcus blurted out. “Only the three of us? Time-locking? What happened to everyone else?”

  “A time-lock stops time,” Taam answered. “In short, everything within Earth's atmosphere has been stopped at an exact moment.”

  “As of right now,” he continued, “no one on your planet even knows anything has happened. And if all goes according to plan, it'll remain that way, even after everything returns to normal.”

  “So what're you saying?” Anthony asked. “The three of us just happened to be at the right place at the right time?”

  “Taam and I managed to get a jump on the rest of the galaxy when it came to your planet,” Bartl chimed in. “We performed a preliminary scan of your population's thought patterns. You three were our best choice. So we set down, grabbed you up, and now, here we are.”

  “Okay,” Marcus said. “Let's say for now we believe everyone is safe. Why is the Earth suddenly so popular?”

  “Because of you,” Bartl answered.

  “Us?” Genny asked.

  “No,” Bartl answered.

  “Is he ever going to answer a question properly?” Marcus asked.

  “He just likes messing with people,” Taam responded. “What he means is, humans are the reason why Earth became popular.”

  “What?” Marcus said.

  “No joke,” Taam said, making some gesture the trio took to be a sign of truthfulness. “What lay ahead for us is a rather impossible task. Truth be told I need humans to get the job done and we barely had time to rescue you three, let alone anyone else. You three stood out amongst the rest.

  “Stick with us and you'll make the history scans by finding the one the greatest treasures in the known universe. Even for creatures with abnormally short life spans, I'm sure you can figure out a way to enjoy it.”

  “Abnormally...short....what are you talking about?” Marcus asked sounding annoyed.

  “Hey, easy there buddy,” Taam said. “It wasn't meant as an insult. In fact it was a compliment. You guys only live like what, a hundred years...max. I'm just over a thousand of your earth years, and Bartl over there is five thousand and some odd years old.”

  “Heck,” Taam chuckled. “I'm still considered a child on over eight hundred different planets. All I'm saying is, for creatures who are considered infants by most of the universe, you guys are amazing.”

  “It really is a compliment,” Alvin chimed in. “Of course, while humans are considered children, even babies by most other races, you've also garnered quite a bit of respect for being rather witty children. Not genius children, and really not even smart children, but witty children. An attribute earned by humans because even though you live in the range of eighty to one hundred years, most other living beings don't consider that long enough for a nap.”

  “On the other hand,” Alvin continued, “the Olefards, from the Dustopian nebula live to be over nine hundred and thirty seven million, four hundred and twenty three thousand, and four earth years old. They are wildly respected as the wisest, albeit grouchiest of all the species found in the galaxy. The most common complaint given when discussing the Olefards is their hatred for people talking so loud.”

  “Alvin why are you rambling off weird facts? Actually, don't answer that. Bartl!” Taam blurted out. “Did you activate Alvin's factoid protocol.”

  “What?” Bartl replied. “These three don't know anything about the universe. I figured Alvin could fill them in on some stuff.”

  “Huh,” Taam responded. “That's not a bad idea, if you three don't mind Alvin's ramblings,” Taam looked to the trio.

  Each looked at the others and shrugged.

  “Well,” Taam said. “If you ever want him to stop, just ask him to deactivate Factoid Alpha One. In fact, I'll run the program through the ship's computer that way you can just ask questions whenever you need, with or without Alvin around. However, for now Alvin, I'll dispense the information.”

  “Of course captain,” Alvin said emphatically.

  “Anyway, where were we?” Taam asked.

  “I have a quick question,” Genny said. “You said something about making history.”

  “I knew it from the moment I saw you that you'd be interested,” Bartl said.

  He clapped his hands together twice and the lights to dimmed. A moment later a holographic projection of some oddly shaped planet appeared in the middle of the room.

  “Did you just make that appear using the Clapper?” Marcus asked.

  “Yeah, he saw something called a commercial from your planet and had the computer replicate the tech,” Taam answered.

  “This is Volja,” Bartl said. “It's one of the oldest planets in the known universe and believed to be one of the original seven. Recently, there was a discovery concerning Volja. Someone found an ancient tome describing, in detail, the history of the planet and let me tell you it is unlike a
nything else in the universe. If this text is to be believed, there's a vault upon the planet holding technology so advanced that most of it is believed to be impossible.”

  “Wait,” Marcus said. “How is it that some old ancient planet is so advanced?”

  “That's part of the mystery,” Taam said. “But we aren't just talking about working devices, there's supposed be schematics, plans, and blueprints on things too large to house. According to this text, inside this vault there are advances in travel, communication, agriculture, and medicine to name a few. Bartl and I managed to delay the spread of this info, but now that it's out, there are others who want it. Specifically, they want...”

  “Weapons,” Genny interrupted. “This book, it described weapons didn't it?”

  “Yes,” Bartl said. “Weapons so dangerous, that even the people who lived upon Volja at one time destroyed them. That's why it's so important for us to be the first ones to get there. If certain people get their hands on this stuff, well, let's just say a lot of people are going to die.”

  “Okay,” Anthony said. “If I'm picking up what you're laying down, there's more than a few 'one-of-a-kind items' on this planet. Sure, there's weapons, but from the sounds of it, that's not really why you're in this. However, one-of-a-kind-items, if there's a market for them, usually means priceless.”

  “Priceless doesn't even begin to describe how much some of this stuff is worth,” Taam said. “Even if only a tenth of what we find is operational, we'll still be able to pay for your planet and buy four more luxury Earth's for each of you. But Bartl and I aren't actually interested in most of the tech described in the text. However, as payment for your help, we'll excavate, stabilize, and transport whatever we find to the Royal Gaaz Festival of the Beizcun auction. Once sold, Bartl and I will do everything needed to get your planet back. If you so choose, the three of you can live out your days doing whatever you want with all that money. You'd be considered wealthy even amongst the wealthiest of the wealthy in the universe.”

  Anthony whistled a sound of amazement. “That sounds nice,” he said. “But, forgive my skepticism. We're talking about a lot of money that you'll just be handing over to us? Any particular reason why we should believe you'll do any of that?”