by Tobias Wade
“What took you so long?” Elden called, climbing around the overgrown hull of a long forgotten pod. “The Draiths have been raining into the jungle for a while now. You must have seen the big one coming down, right?”
“Yeah, we felt it alright,” Sali said. “What do you mean they’re raining though? The atmosphere incinerated the first one that tried that.”
“They’ve adapted. I don’t know how, but the ones I saw had wings. It looked like they were still figuring them out too, because some of them were trying to use them like a parachute, while others were flapping or just gliding down. Look, there’s one of them now.”
Little more than a shadow, gone as soon as it flashed across Sali’s vision. Black wings stirred the quiet air with uncertain, fumbling motion. Looking back at the tree line, the upper branches were already scattered with suspicious yellow eyes.
“At least we know they can evolve, so they won’t surprise us later,” Ramnus said, beginning his ascent of the debris pile.
“That’s not how evolution works,” Sali called after him, furrowing her brow at the black dots drifting through the air. “Even with a new generation every few minutes, there’s no variation in reproductive success that could account for such a targeted adaptation so quickly.”
“Life isn’t like a computer. You can’t take the back off and look inside to see how it works,” Ramnus said. He wore his thinking face, which looked as though he’d just counted his fingers twice and come up with different answers each time. “Anyway, I thought you didn’t believe in magic.”
“I’m not saying it’s magic. I’m saying their design was consciously altered to fit the demands of the situation. That’s not evolution. It’s something new.”
“Does it matter?” Elden asked. “I haven’t found a working pod yet. I think the locals might have damaged the one Harris Johnson came down in while they were dragging it through the jungle. Where is he, anyway?”
“The villagers grabbed him when we were trying to talk to the Quasi Crystal.”
“There’s only three that can fit in a pod anyway,” Elden said, shrugging. “We agreed we aren’t here to be heroes, right? That we just want to get home?”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Sali said. “The distraction was supposed to buy us more time. We’ve got to hurry and get something working.”
Elden shrugged helplessly at the broken debris. “I don’t think I can not know what I’m doing any faster.”
“If we find a hull in good condition, then we can use parts from the other pods to get it going again,” Sali said, surveying the ingredients around her like a hungry chef. Her focus zeroed in on a largely intact hunk of metal that was only missing its door. “This is good, we can work with this. We’ll also need some extra parts to repair the Galactic Express once we dock, so I need the two of you to find me some things while I work. Get me all the functioning thrusters you can find, whatever their condition. Processors too, and all the anti-matter tanks that have anything left in them.”
“I think it would be safer to not leave you here alone…” Ramnus hesitated.
“You want to hold my hand, maybe braid my hair, see if that helps me relax? If you want to be useful, you do what I tell you and don’t talk back.”
“Just like old Mrs. Halzey,” Ramnus mumbled, plodding down the mound of wreckage after Elden.
“I heard that!” Sali’s voice was cold enough to make a snowman shiver. “Cochlear enhancements—don’t mess with me, punk!”
“You knew her mother?” Elden asked, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder as they picked their way through the debris.
“Worked for her at Morolox Energy,” Ramnus admitted gruffly.
“You too, huh?” Elden said. “Same place my wife worked, what are the odds? How did you like the job?”
Ramnus stared bleakly at his surroundings, his white mustache wiggling as he sniffed. “It’s the only job I’ve ever known. That company was my family, even if they didn’t know it.” He picked up a piece of scrap metal and stared at it hard. “What does a processor look like?”
“Like the inside of a computer.” Elden gestured vaguely at the burned out hull of a rotting ship. “Although to be honest, I didn’t even know the ships ran on anti-matter. I thought that was just a science fiction thing.”
“I never understood the techno talk either.” Ramnus sighed like a blacksmith’s bellows. “That’s all they did at Morolox—computers, and cyber upgrades, and fusion power stations. The people who work with that stuff start to speak in their own language, you know? I tried to learn the basics a few times, but they just give me this amused, pitying look. Like I was an animal trying to pretend to be a person. Like even though I was security at the same company, I didn’t really belong there.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Elden recognized a container with broken hoses sprouting out that reminded him of when the pods were docked on the Galactic Express. Kneeling, his fingers fumbled clumsily as they searched for a way to unhook it from the charred metal hull. Something black and sticky oozed onto his hand, causing him to wince.
“I just don’t understand how people didn’t look around at some point and say ‘Hey, look at that, life is pretty good right now. Let’s stop messing around with new stuff and spend a little more time making sure the old stuff keeps working.’”
“You got me all wrong,” Ramnus said, his muscles flexing as he tore a computer in half to peer inside. “I don’t want things to stop getting better. I just wish I could keep up with it, that’s all. It would be boring if things never changed.”
“I’ll have you know that I spent some of the best years of my life bored out of my mind, with nothing but me and my thoughts and the open sky. If it’s good now, keep it that way.”
“What if a farmer said that five thousand years ago?” Ramnus asked, trying to roll a broken pod onto its other side. “He’d be plowing his muddy fields from morning to night. Then he goes off and catches the plague, ‘cause that’s the only entertainment they got back then. How’s he supposed to know if that’s as good as things are ever going to be?”
“Yeah, so? What’s so wrong with that?” Elden countered. “That peasant doesn’t feel like he’s missing anything, because he doesn’t know anything else is possible. Now think about Pria, where nobody is happy with what they have because all day they’re reminded of things they don’t. There isn’t anything special about getting a power pod, because you’ll always know other people are driving hover pods and getting there faster with more cupholders and better reclining seats. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t make us any happier if things get better or not, and if things aren’t always changing, then at least we can learn to accept them the way they are.”
“Do you even want to go back?”
Elden was trudging toward Sali again with three half-empty anti matter tanks slung across his back. He paused in his tracks, surprised by how difficult it was to answer such an obvious question. Of course he wanted to go back. It’s where Amore was, where his life was, where he had to get a better job and earn more money and hope that one day it would be enough. And around him came the soft stirrings of the jungle, existing in its natural splendor exactly as it had for untold eons.
Things wouldn’t be easy here, but things were never easy anywhere. Why shouldn’t he hunt for his food and dance around a crystal and let day turn to night in a primordial world that never changes? No, he thought, not everything stayed the same. Out there somewhere the Draiths were picking their way through the trees, perhaps devouring great swaths of land that would never recover. Maybe there really was no corner of the universe so peaceful that it couldn’t be disturbed.
Elden shrugged and leaned into the hill of junk that he was climbing, depositing his burden at the top. Sali leaned away from the pod she worked on, resting on hands that were stained with the same dark fluid. A thumb print of black grease glistened alongside the sweat on Sali’s face.
“You can’t sto
p people from thinking, even when nothing changes,” Sali said, apparently having heard them all the way across the debris mound. “If they aren’t thinking about how much better things can be, they’re thinking about how much worse it can get. You may never climb all the way up to perfection, but there’s still a long way to go before we reach almost perfect too.”
“Were you working, or listening?”
“I can do both, and three other things at once. Ramnus—haul that hairy ass up here, we’ve got even less time than I thought. The villagers have already tracked us down.”
“Are you sure? I don’t hear anything...”
“Not my fault your stupid ears can’t pick up anything below a decibel. Trust me, we need to hide. This pod won’t be much shelter without a door, so start looking for something else. Now, please.”
Elden desperately scanned the surrounding debris. “Okay, how about there? We can probably fit down that old rocket tube. And look, the cap still works, they’ll never even see us inside.”
Sali gripped the edges of the rusty metal cylinder, scrambling backwards on her hands and knees to squeeze inside. The rocket tube was angled downward and over ten feet long, allowing her to easily slide all the way to the far end and make room for Elden to fit in after her.
“Wait, what about Ramnus, can he fit in here too?” Sali called, her voice echoing from within.
The words hung ridiculously in the air, like a chicken that had managed to take off but hadn’t quite worked out how to land. Ramnus set down the computing hardware he’d been carrying and stared glumly into the slim tube. Maybe if he found some oil to help him slide, maybe if he really forced at it, maybe since his life could well depend on it—maybe he could get a single one of his meaty legs into the confined hideout. Concealing himself entirely here was quite impossible however.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll find another spot,” the large man said, closing the rocket cap behind Elden.
“Get out, Elden, we have to find something else,” Sali said, pushing at Elden’s rear to go back the way they came. He was blocking the end of the tube though, and she wouldn’t be able to climb out again until he did.
“What? Why? Let him find his own spot.”
“Where? There isn’t a rock big enough for him to hide under,” Sali protested, pushing harder. “Move already!”
Voices rang from outside, but it wasn’t coming from Ramnus. The villagers were close enough for even Elden’s natural hearing to detect.
“There he is! The big oaf, he’s on the junk yard!”
“Ow, stop shoving!” Elden hissed. “I’m not going back out there.”
“We can’t lose another one, not him,” Sali pleaded.
“I’m right here,” Ramnus boomed from a little ways off.
“I told you they’d be here, didn’t I? Now let me go,” Harris Johnson faintly grumbled.
“It’s just me,” Ramnus called. “I don’t know where the others are. Put those nasty little darts away, I’m coming down!”
“No. Not this time. I’m not going to let him do this,” Sali said. “If you don’t open the cap and climb out right now, you’re going to get a little boost from my detachable, rocket-powered fist.”
“You’re joking, right? Do they really sell that sort of upgrade?”
“Do you want to find out?”
“Okay, okay! I’m climbing out! Oh no, my gut doesn’t like this,” Elden complained. “My guts never wrong, you know. Ow! Stop that!”
Elden tumbled from the confined space just in time to see Ramnus droping to one knee. He crashed into the metal plates with a sound like a box of silverware being thrown down the stairs. Four feathers were now clearly visible protruding from the side of his broad neck, with another two sprouting from his shoulder.
“Too late, so sad, too bad. We did the best we could.”
Elden pivoted on his heel and tried to slip back inside the rocket tube as soon as Sali finished emerging behind him. Sali slammed the cap into place with her foot, blocking his retreat and nearly taking off Elden’s fingers as she did so.
“Why are you going back for him?” Elden protested. “You never tried to save the others.”
“Because he’s the only one who would have done it for me. You get his left arm, I’ll get his right. We can do this. Let’s drag him somewhere safe.”
Ramnus was almost impossible to move, even with both of them pulling. It didn’t help that Elden’s muscles were stiff and tense, constantly bracing for one of those feathered darts to prick his skin. Would he have time to make it back to the rocket tube if he was hit? Probably not. Even if he could, there’s no way he could fix a pod, let alone pilot the Galactic Express, if Sali didn’t go back with him.
“He’s too heavy,” Elden gasped, heaving at the dead-weight. “We have to leave him. Why does no one ever take my gut seriously? Ohh, if they catch us the villagers will sacrifice us for sure this time.”
“Worry about what I’ll do to you first. I’m closer.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sure you must think this is easy for me, since it’s an Outlander tradition to pick up a pair of cows and fling them over our shoulders when heading home for the day. Oh wait, that’s right, I can’t, because that’s not something home grown humans can do!”
“Shut up and pull!” Sali panted, heaving Ramnus a few more inches. It was no good—they’d needed three people to move him on the ship where the gravity was lower, and even then Ramnus had woken up before they went far. The shouts from the villagers were getting closer by the moment, but how could Sali let them take Ramnus when he was only here because of her in the first place?
“So you were lying about the rocket-powered fists, weren’t you?” Elden prodded. “Because that would have been a hell of a lot more useful than—”
“Now is not the time, Elden!” Sali interrupted fiercely, her muscles locked and strained in determination. If they could just slide Ramnus onto a sheet of metal, then maybe that would decrease the friction enough to push him like a sled.
“All I’m saying is that—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Sali snapped. “I swear you’re getting weaker and weaker. We could do this if you were pulling your share.”
“What I’m trying to tell you is—”
“It can wait until we’re hidden.”
“No, you’re right. It can wait. We can all have a nice, long chat… right after I take a quick nap.”
Elden slumped to the ground. For the first time, Sali noticed a bright red feather protruding from his neck. She stumbled as Ramnus’ full weight bore down on her. Sali was on the ground before she knew it, the insurmountable weight pinning her down. That was it then. She couldn’t save anyone. Her enhancements hadn’t been enough. She’d spent her whole life preparing for all the wrong tests. How stupid to think that she might have never received a single upgrade, and still been better off than she was now.
Around them the thundering of feet on discarded metal rang out like the cold laughter of a diabolical machine. The villagers wouldn’t be so forgiving this time. They’d take her head for sure, all the achievement of her design wasted by these savages and their lust for blood.
Sali stared upward at the morning sky as she waited for her inevitable capture. She winced as a sharp sting radiated from her arm. It took all her will not to look down at the feather embedded within her skin. Why would she want her last sight to be something nasty like that, with all the splendor of the cosmos stretched unending overhead? Her vision must be swimming already, because some of the stars even seemed to be moving. And why were they traveling in sets of four, like beady yellow eyes staring back at her?
“Because they’re Draiths, that’s why,” Sali mumbled to herself, watching the dark shapes silently swoop overhead. “I hope they choke on my metal implants.”
The villagers charged up the junk pile, too busy whooping and hollering to notice the Draiths orbiting like vultures. The Grand Shaman had remained at the bottom
of the hill to lead from a safe distance behind. He was was the first of that group to spot the dark shapes as they bent their crooked wings to drop into jagged dives.
The Grand Shaman Ang wasn’t the longest surviving villager simply because his faith protected him so. If there was one thing he believed in more powerfully than the Quasi Crystal, it was the good sense of his feet to always know better than his head. As alluring as promises of salvation were, he’d always thought the first step to achieving immortality was not dying in the first place. After all, if the Quasi Crystal was to be trusted implicitly, then why shouldn’t he trust it to take care of the other villagers while he waited for them back at the safety of the village? And if it so happened that they were all killed while he was safely escaping, then wasn’t that also part of the Quasi Crystals plan?
Of course, some might argue that he should at least shout and warn the others before he fled, but that would just alert the Draiths to his location and send them swooping after him. Indeed, there was nothing so pious and honorable, Ang told himself, as to slink off quietly. That way he may continue to bear witness to the crystal’s divine insight, their only true salvation. The villager’s shouts of victory turned to terror behind Shaman Ang as he turned to flee, straight into the jungle which now blossomed with glinting yellow eyes.
An Unlikely Savior
“Is this everything you wanted?”
Senator Hallum was marginally aware of a box filled with notebooks, a few external hard drives, and various other computing debris. It was difficult to concentrate on the contents, however, when the person carrying the box demanded so much more attention. The Masks turned like clockwork as she passed, and if their faces weren’t concealed, then a dozen dopey grins would surely be visible among his men. Standing before Hallum was exactly the type of woman his wife would have hated, and that everyone else would die for. She had the kind of face that rendered her personality completely optional, and a body that a cosmetic surgeon could have spent many happy years measuring.
