by J. J. Green
“It’s okay, Carrie. It’s my fault, too, for being a nosy parker. I should have gone home instead of poking around in your kitchen and looking at your things.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t mind. Look, on my way over, I was worrying about the air supply in here. Have you felt dizzy or sleepy or anything?”
Dave shook his head. “Every so often a bubble of air pops open above me and a hole appears in the floor to grab a bubble to take away. The custard seems to understand I need fresh air. Anyway, how did you get here? What’s going on?”
Carrie gasped, realising she hadn’t heard the oootoons’ voices for a while. Where was the translator? She must have dropped it when Dave hugged her. She looked down and saw it half-submerged in the floor. As she touched it, the voices started up again in her head.
“I discovered something. The ocean we’re in, it’s alive,” she said.
“What? I assumed it was being controlled.”
“No, listen.” She held the translator out to Dave. “It’s full of voices communicating telepathically, but they hear us best if we speak.”
Dave’s eyes bulged as his fingers made contact with the translator. Catch them. Keep them. Crush them, shouted some of the voices, but these were only the loudest, not the majority. Quieter voices speculated on who Carrie and Dave were, where they had come from and why they were there. Other voices explained that Carrie had eaten their citizens. Actually scooped them up and ate them!
“Urgh...This is impossible to listen to,” said Dave, grimacing. “Is there a way of turning this off?” He traced the surface of the translator with his fingers. “Ah, there’s something here.” He pressed an invisible bump, and the voices stopped. “So it was because you ate some of it the ocean attacked?” Carrie hung her head. Dave’s brow wrinkled. “Wait, is this the other alien the placktoids are fighting with?”
“Must be. Gavin called them oootoons, I think. It would explain the explosions in the ocean.”
“So why are the placktoids attacking the oootoons?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Your terrifying boss said some of the placktoids were missing.”
“Did he?”
Dave tilted his head and glared at Carrie. “Yes, weren’t you listening?”
“I must have missed that part.”
Her friend grasped his hair with both hands for a moment, then let go. He leaned towards her. “Carrie, this could mean life or death to us. I, for one, want to go home. You need to pay attention.”
“Yeah, that’s a bit of a weak spot with me. I’m more of a visual person, you see. When I read something I remember it, but when people talk to me...”
“Well, do you think you could fix it? Because I intend to get off this planet.” Dave’s lips drew to a thin line.
“All right, there’s no need to go on about it.”
He held up the translator. “Let’s talk to the oootoons and see if we can find out what’s been going on.”
“Okay.”
He held out the device and Carrie grasped it as he turned it on.
ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK, screamed the voices.
Chapter Thirteen – War Zone
An explosion nearby threw Carrie and Dave to the floor. The bubble walls wobbled violently.
“What the hell’s that?” shouted Dave.
“It must be a bombardment from the placktoids.” Carrie tried to stand as large ripples crossed the floor.
“Seems like—” said Dave as he rose to his feet. Another explosion jerked the bubble and he fell down again. “—the time for negotiation may have passed.”
Carrie’s eyes widened. “What if we take a direct hit? What if the bombs break the wall?” She wondered again how deep they were. She touched the wall as she spoke. It had become firmer, almost solid, and rubbery, so that her fingers barely broke the surface. It was as if the oootoons were trying to protect them. Another bomb detonated, and they were thrown to one side. They bounced back from the elastic surface.
Dave staggered upright. “Do the placktoids know we’re here? Are they trying to kill us?”
“I don’t see how they could. Unless they can trace this thing like Gavin can.” She held up the translator. Screams and shouts from it were echoing through her head. She winced. “Poor oootoons.”
Bracing himself against the bubble walls, Dave said, “Carrie, you have to do something.”
“Me? What can I do?”
“What can you...? You’re the Liaison Officer, or whatever. It’s your job to sort this out. That’s why you’re here.”
“But I don’t have the first clue what’s going on.”
“Then you need to find out.”
“But...I...” Carrie was about to protest that she’d tried to find out the important information and solve the dispute, but in fact she couldn’t think of anything she’d done other than try to go home. Dave was right. She should do something. It was her job. She had agreed to it. All for the sake of a stupid handbag.
An ear-bursting concussion resounded from outside, and there was an ominous bulge in the bubble wall.
“CARRIE.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll do something.”
Holding the translator in both hands, she brought it close to her lips. She wasn’t sure it would make any difference, but maybe it would help her to be heard above the explosions and shouts and cries of the oootoons.
“Listen, please listen to me,” she shouted. “You’ve made a mistake. I’ve been sent here to sort out your dispute, by the...” She looked at Dave. He raised his eyebrows and spread his hands. “By the Transgalactic...Council? I’m not wearing my uniform, sorry. But I’m here to help you. Take us back to land. Take us back to the shore. Please.”
A double explosion rocked the bubble, and Carrie fell down. It was impossible to remain standing on the undulating floor. At first it didn’t seem her words had been heard. From the oootoons she could hear nothing but shouts of pain and anger, but then she heard Transgalactic Council. Another voice repeated the words, and another, until the words echoed in her head. Protrusions rose from the floor that lifted them from their feet.
“We’re moving,” said Dave. “I can feel it.”
Slowly, then faster, the bubble walls began to flow past, and the voices from the translator merged into a speeding gibberish. Carrie thumbed the translator off. The voices were giving her a headache and she couldn’t comprehend a single word.
“Looks like they heard you,” said Dave, “and believed you.”
“Yes, maybe, or maybe they decided to take us somewhere else.”
“Out of the bombardment zone?”
“Yes, to protect us.”
“Or kill us.”
Carrie shook her head. “They could have done that as soon as they got us below the surface. If anything, they’ve gone to some trouble to keep us alive, maybe just as hostages of course. But when I suggested they’d killed you they were outraged. Accused me of thinking they were savages.”
“Some of them certainly sounded like they wanted us dead.”
Carrie nodded. “Only some, though.”
“Do you really think they’ll let us go?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do if they take us back to land?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
Dave rolled his eyes.
Carrie wondered how she was going to solve the dispute between these alien species. It was difficult to come up with a solution when she didn’t know what the details of the problem were. The placktoids must be bombing because, according to Gavin, some of them had gone missing and they blamed the oootoons. How could the oootoons take them, though? The placktoids had spaceships, weapons and other technology—dammit, they were technology.
“It’s got to be the placktoids’ fault,” said Carrie.
“Why?”
“How could the oootoons hurt them? How could it capture them?”
“Well, they captured us and could have
severely hurt us if they’d wanted to.”
“We’re not machinery.”
“Are the placktoids machinery?” asked Dave. “You don’t know. You’re making assumptions. They might have some living parts. Or there might be baby paperclips that the oootoons were hurting. Yes, the placktoids were raising their babies and the oootoons came along and swept them away, or something like that.”
Carrie lifted an eyebrow. “Okayyyyy. So, how could oootoons have taken them? The placktoids are in a spaceship. How could the oootoons reach all the way up there?”
Dave rubbed his chin. “You’ve got a point...Unless the baby paperclips were playing on the beach?”
Carrie gazed at Dave for a silent moment.
“Or maybe not?” he said.
Carrie folded her arms. “It’s the placktoids' fault, I’m sure of it. They were the ones who were going to execute us, remember? And we hadn’t done a single thing to hurt them. But the oootoons didn’t harm me or you at all, even though I actually ate some of them. If some of the placktoids have gone missing, I bet the oootoons have nothing to do with it. Or maybe the placktoids are lying because they want an excuse to attack.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“You don’t have to be convinced. I’m the Transgalactic Intercultural...space detective, so it’s my call. I bet the placktoids can’t prove the oootoons have done anything to hurt them. ”
“I hope you’re right. I just want this all to be over.”
“Me, too. I’ll do this one job, then, when I get home, I’m going to dig a hole in a field somewhere and bury all that equipment Gavin gave me. And the next thing I’m going to do is get some nails, and hammer shut that door under my sink.” Carrie raised her arms for balance. “Whoa, we’re slowing down.”
The deceleration was rapid. As the bubble wall opened in front of them, the protrusions they were sitting on rose swiftly up and ejected them through the gap. They landed face downward on the pale grey, gritty shore, not far from where the oootoons had taken them.
“I hate this job so much,” said Carrie, sitting up and rubbing her nose.
“It has its disadvantages,” said Dave, blinking in the daylight and surveying the sticky, yellowish material that had once been his clothes.
An explosion. A giant custard plume erupted. Wet, slimy oootoons rained down on them.
“Out of the frying pan, into the fire,” shouted Dave. The oootoons had brought them back to the beach as requested, but not out of the bombardment zone. Another bomb hit close by, and oootoons were splattered over the beach. The large jellied balls that landed close to the ocean oozed quickly down into it, but the ones farther from the shoreline began to darken, dry and shrink.
“Look,” said Carrie, pointing at the drying lumps, “I don’t think they can survive cut off from the rest of the ocean.” They ran to the globs to try to help them return to the sea. Dave lifted one but his fingers slipped through. He pushed it, but his hands sank uselessly in. Separated from the rest of the liquid, the oootoons didn’t seem to have the ability to change their viscosity.
“You have to hit them hard,” said Carrie. “Do that and the liquid resists. Like when we landed on it. See, like this.” She smacked a glob hard, and the material shuddered and slid a short distance along the sand. “Kicking probably works better.” She aimed a sideways swipe with her foot, and the glob slipped closer to the ocean’s edge.
“Got it,” said Dave, and he began punching and kicking a blob for all he was worth. In a few minutes it touched the custard sea, melted, and flowed into it.
As the bombing continued, Dave and Carrie worked steadily to return the displaced oootoons to their fellows. They worked for longer than half an hour until the bombs finally stopped. The two humans flopped down in exhaustion. They’d done their best, but some of the globs farthest from shore had dried completely and showed no signs of life.
Chapter Fourteen – Carrie’s Replacement
“We did our best,” said Carrie.
Dave turned his head. He sniffed and blinked, and wiped a finger under his eye. “This needs to stop, Carrie.”
“I know.”
“Then do something.”
“I’m trying.” Carrie stood. In the distance was the red leaf forest. The custard sea flopped and withdrew, flopped and withdrew, no trace of the recent bombardment visible on its glossy surface. Everything had returned to normal. The only signs of damage were the dried remains of oootoons on the beach. Yet Carrie couldn’t forget the shouts and cries of the victims. She needed to talk to Gavin and get him to help her force the placktoids to stop the bombing. She would demand they show evidence the oootoon had taken their missing members. She took out the translator. Maybe she could figure out how to use it to communicate with Gavin.
“Are you going to talk to the oootoons?” asked Dave. “You need to find out their side of the story, remember?”
“Oh, come on, Dave, you’ve heard the mass of chatter that stands for oootoon communication. I tried listening to their side of the history of the conflict before I found out they hadn’t drowned you. It was gobbledogook. Incomprehensible. And we haven’t got all the time in the world.”
“I think you can do it. You’ve made some headway already.”
But Carrie shook her head.
“What’s that?” asked Dave.
Carrie followed the direction of his gaze. He was looking towards the boulder. A patch of green mist was forming in front of it. The faint spot of colour grew wider and deeper, and began to glow and spin. Dave stood.
Carrie gripped his arm. “That looks like...”
A leg appeared through the mist. It was long, shapely, and womanly, and it was clothed in fluorescent orange. A firm, curvaceous buttock followed the leg, joined by another buttock and another leg. An hourglass torso began to appear, and shoulders. A woman appeared, clad in a perfectly fitting orange jumpsuit. A mane of tawny hair hung down, so that it was impossible to see her face. As the mist faded, the statuesque female stood upright. She shook back her hair, revealing even features and a finely chiselled bone structure.
As she scanned the surroundings, the woman’s eyes alighted on Carrie and Dave, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, but moved quickly on. Over her shoulder was an attractive designer handbag, which she opened. She pulled out a translator, glanced once more at Carrie and Dave and turned her back before speaking into the device.
“Wow,” said Dave.
“I know,” exclaimed Carrie. “How rude.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Huh?” Carrie looked from Dave to the woman, who was deep in conversation, and back again. “But you’re...?”
“I may be gay, Carrie, but I’m not blind.”
“I suppose she is a bit, I don’t know, drop dead gorgeous.” Carrie frowned. “But what’s she doing here?”
“She’s got all the stuff you have: a handbag, a jumpsuit like the one that was on your table, a translator. She’s doing the same job as you of course.”
“But...” said Carrie, “but I’m doing this job. What’s she doing here? And why won’t she say hello?” The woman was scanning the sky. She began walking away. “Where’s she going?”
“I don’t know. There’s nothing that way but forest. Maybe she’s going to try and find a placktoid to talk to?” Dave grabbed her arm. “Carrie, look.” In front of the blasted boulder, the green mist had reappeared. It was thickening and swirling into a spiral. “Do you think that’s an exit? A way for us to go home?” He tugged her arm. “Come on, let’s go.” He ran towards the hole, checked over his shoulder, then stopped and turned. Carrie hadn’t left the spot. “Come on. What’s wrong?”
She found her legs reluctant to move. “We don’t know where it goes. It could lead anywhere.”
“I don’t see why. It isn’t like these things appear randomly. Gavin must have created it so we can leave. It makes sense. That woman’s been sent to replace you. The job’s over, Carrie. We can go home.”
> Still her legs felt like lead. Her pride and annoyance seemed to be gluing her to the sand. She folded her arms and set her lips. “You go if you want to. I’m staying.”
Her friend hesitated at the edge of the mist. “But why? Don’t you want to get back? Aren’t you tired of all this? Your pets must be missing you by now. ”
Carrie’s mouth twisted. He was right. She was worried about Toodles and Rogue, but they would just have to wait a little longer. She went to Dave’s side. The green mist lifted and pulled at her hair, but she resisted.
“All my life, Dave,” she said, “all my life I’ve never been able to hold down a job. Even a crappy temporary job. I don’t know why, but things always go wrong for me. And I think I’ve messed up the call centre job, too. But this job...maybe I can do this. I don’t want to give up yet. Maybe I can stop this war between the oootoons and the placktoids.”
Dave ran his hands through his sticky hair and looked longingly at the mist. He looked at Carrie and rubbed the back of his neck. The edges of the mist were fading and the hole was beginning to contract.
“But you go,” said Carrie. “You don’t need to stay. I can do it on my own. I think I can, anyway.”
Dave’s eyes lifted skyward. The hole was smaller now, barely wide enough for a person to pass through it. He spoke to the ground. “I didn’t want to say this, Carrie, but that woman looks like she knows what she’s doing. She’s an experienced professional, and this is a serious situation. We saw the oootoons dying today. They need someone to put an end to the conflict. Maybe you should leave her to it.”
Her voice trembling, Carrie replied, “You should go now if you’re going, before it’s too late.”
There was a silence. Dave looked wistfully at the mist. The spiral grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared. He hung his head and sighed. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay.”
