by J. J. Green
Peeking between her fingers, she confirmed her suspicion: she was being attacked by small placktoids, ‘baby’ paperclips the mechanical aliens had developed as part of their plan to reproduce in enough numbers to take over the galaxy. She inhaled sharply as a paperclip hit the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger. Peeking again, she saw her escape route through the mass of swarming, vicious miniature placktoids. In the corner of the rounded room was a hole, a dark exit.
Cringing from the attack, she crawled slowly towards the hole, unable to stand due to the placktoid onslaught. But as she neared the way out the paperclips redoubled their efforts, until it felt like she was in a swarm of stinging wasps. Gasping in pain, Carrie scrambled back to her original position. The intensity of the attack reduced enough for her to take a peek again. The baby placktoids were definitely concentrated around the hole. They were trying to prevent her from leaving. But why? Were the placktoids in the process of destroying squashpumps before the Unity forces closed in?
Carrie set her jaw. These annoying little mechanical aliens were not going to stop her from doing whatever she could to save the squashpumps. There might be lots of them, but she knew their weakness. When she had first fought them on the placktoid starship she had discovered they needed light to energise them.
Eyes squeezed shut, she jumped up and dug her fingers into the fungus growing on the ceiling. It was spongy and soft and yielded easily. Before long, she had pulled more than half of it away from the roof and put it face down on the floor so that only its dark, non-luminescent, earthy roots were showing. She was sure she felt fewer stings. She risked another look. The chamber was quite dim now. The placktoids seemed to be struggling to fly. With one eye on the exit, she grabbed at the remaining pieces of fungus, plunging the chamber into darkness.
She shuffled forwards, holding her hands out in front of her, until she found the wall. Feeling downwards, she soon located the hole. As soon as she was out, she scanned the area for signs of placktoids. The mound’s interior was dingy and warren-like. There was no sign of any squashpumps or their eggs. All she could see clearly was a single light in the distance. A green light. It was only a faint trace of glowing mist, but Carrie’s heart sank at the sight of it. The placktoids had escaped. They had disappeared through a transgalactic gateway.
Chapter Three – Carrie's Comeuppance
Never before had Carrie seen Gavin’s razor-sharp inner mandibles at such close quarters. They filled her vision, glistening with mucus, and she struggled to concentrate on what he was saying. She caught the words irresponsible, reckless, impulsive and idiotic. She thought the last one was a little harsh. Of all the Transgalactic Council staff, she had the most experience of dealing with the deceptions of the placktoids. That was why they had asked her along. Only they had never given her a chance to use her knowledge. Maybe if she’d arrived in the squashpump mound a little sooner—
“Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer Hatchett, did you hear what I said?”
Shuffling a little to the side so that she could look at Gavin’s hundred or so eyes, which were slightly less unnerving than his mouth, Carrie replied, “Yes, every word.”
“Good, please remain where you are. Your guard is approaching.”
“Wh-what? My guard?” Carrie’s mouth went dry and her knees weakened.
Gavin chittered. “As I have already informed you, you are under arrest until your return to Earth. Transgalactic gateway use is prohibited while the Council tries to determine the route the placktoids followed. When we know their destination we can begin to use gateways once more—”
“Wait, wait. What was that you said about me being under arrest?”
Her manager did not answer. He reared up until he was standing on only his hind pair of legs while the other nine pairs beat the air. Carrie could smell roses, sweet and musky. Gavin was exuding pheromones, the language of his species. He seemed to have temporarily lost the power to communicate in English. Pair by pair, his legs dropped to the ground, and a quiver ran up the insectoid alien from the tip of his tail to the ends of his antennae. After another pause, he spoke. “I apologise for my outburst, but your attitude is, at times, extremely trying, Officer Hatchett.
“I repeat, your unilateral action in entering the squashpump metropolis in an attempt to negotiate with the placktoids on an individual basis indicates that you are a danger to not only yourself but also to innocent civilians and Council and Unity staff. You are under arrest. Please wait here. The Council currently has more important matters to address.”
“But—”
He left without listening to her protest.
“But I was only trying to help,” Carrie exclaimed, to no one. Arrested? Her muscles grew rigid. Arrested? After her act of bravery? Outrage and anger surged through her for a moment, but then events of the long day caught up to her, and she slumped down in the trench and wiped dirt from her face, grimacing at the stinging of hundreds of tiny cuts the baby paperclips had inflicted. A sullen resentment formed in her stomach. She had been the one who’d seen the signature remains of the green mist that had informed the Council how the placktoids had left the planet. She had been the one who had been prepared to risk her life to save the squashpumps. They had been going to attack without caring what the placktoids might do in retaliation.
“Stand up,” said a voice at her side.
Startled, Carrie looked up to see a Unity soldier framed against the sky, though his helmet and uniform were quickly turning deep grey to match the clouds overhead. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “Geez, you guys. How do you do that?”
In answer, the soldier bent and roughly grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet.
“Ow, all right, all right. I’m standing up.”
Tugging her arms to her front, the soldier fixed restraints around her wrists before bending and locking similar devices around her ankles. He stood to one side, legs akimbo, while his uniform slowly blended to the colour of the trench wall behind him.
Carrie sank to the ground once again. More Unity soldiers passed, and Transgalactic Council Managers and other Council staff. Squashpumps also slid by. No one spoke a word to Carrie. It was as if she didn’t exist. Resentment gave way to self-pity. She fought down the rising lump in her throat. She was determined not to cry. She had been right to do what she did. They just didn’t understand. No one cared about the squashpumps more than her. The only person she had endangered by going alone to the squashpump pile was herself.
A squashpump glided to a stop. “They told me I’d find ye here.”
Carrie wondered which one it was. They looked so similar.
“If I’d’ve known what ye were going t’ do I’d ne’er have told ye aboot ma bairns.”
MacDougal. Carrie closed her eyes for a moment. Her impulse was to apologise, but that would mean admitting what she had done was wrong. “I was going to talk to the placktoids and save your children. The Unity were preparing to storm the mound. Who knows what would have happened then?”
“Tsk. What ye did was more risky, and stupid. No doot aboot it. What did ye think was going t’ happen? Yon placktoids would listen to ye? Ye think ye’re that important do ye?”
A flush crept over Carrie’s face. She swallowed. “No, I don’t think I’m that important. I was just trying...I wanted to help.”
“Sometimes the best help ye can offer is doing nothing. Doing what ye’re told.”
She could find no answer to this, and MacDougal began to leave. “Wait.” The squashpump stopped. “What about your children and eggs? Are they safe?”
“Yon mechanicals destroyed our eggs days ago, but the adults and bairns managed t’ escape into the walls.”
“Thank goodness. That’s something at least, isn’t it?”
“Yes, no thanks t’ ye.” MacDougal glided away.
***
Carrie’s dirty face was streaked with tears when Gavin finally returned. In the hours while she waited, she
wondered what they were going to do with her. Would they charge her with something? Put her on trial? Or just give her the sack? She also tried several times to talk to the guard, hoping for a friendly voice, but he never answered and only stood immobile and nearly invisible to those who didn’t know he was there. She wondered at his stamina, for she was chilled through and her muscles ached no matter in what position she stood or sat. But all her fatigue melted away while she listened to what Gavin had to say as the guard released her from her restraints, and she stretched and rubbed her wrists and ankles.
“The Council have been unable to trace the transgalactic route the placktoids took, and so far there have been no sightings on any inhabited planet in the entire galaxy. It is most puzzling. There were large numbers within the metropolis. Too many to hide easily.”
“They’ve disappeared entirely?”
“To all intents and purposes, yes. Locating the placktoids is now the primary focus of the Council’s efforts. They represent a grave danger to all sentient beings. Council and Unity resources are being withdrawn from non-life-threatening disputes, and new staff are being recruited to address the crisis, which in your case is extremely fortunate.”
Carrie stopped stretching. “Really? Why?”
The insectoid alien seemed to consider his words for a moment. “Perhaps against my better judgement, I argued strongly that you should remain in service.”
“Oh...thanks.”
“Technically, you did not disobey a directive because no order was given not to approach the squashpump city as an individual. It was assumed no member of staff would do something so foolish and ignorant.”
Anger flared in Carrie. They still didn’t understand.
“I pointed out that your experiences with the placktoids could prove useful in the future, and that we needed every operative we had if we were protect galactic civilisations from their threat. I persuaded the Board that with remedial training your performance might improve to acceptable standards.”
Carrie frowned. Remedial training? They were acting like she didn’t know what she was doing.
“This training is for poorly qualified applicants, and it is the final opportunity for badly performing Officers to remain in employment with the Council. In truth I believe the only reason the Board agreed to it is because they currently have far weightier and pressing matters on hand. However, it is important that you understand the gravity of your error,” Gavin went on, but Carrie wasn’t listening.
Remedial training? She shook her head.
Chapter Four – Begging a Favour
“Wow, what happened to you?” asked Dave as Carrie arrived by transgalactic gateway through the cupboard under her kitchen sink.
Carrie slung her Council Officer’s toolbox onto a table and peered at her reflection in the stainless steel panel at the back of her cooker. The hazy image was dishevelled, dirt-smudged and inflamed with pink marks from the baby placktoid attack.
“You won’t believe it.” Carrie bent down to pat her dog, Rogue, who was quivering with effort as he resisted the urge to jump up and lick her face.
“Sit down,” said Dave. “I’ll make some tea.”
With a sigh, Carrie slumped down at the table. While waiting for her tea, she related the events of the siege, the words pouring out in a torrent of outrage and incredulity. After a while she calmed down a little. She took a sip of her drink and said, “And what do you think they did when they found out I’d gone there all by myself to try a different approach? To try something other than going in there all gung-ho and risking the lives of innocent squashpumps?” Her mug thumped to the table and tea sloshed over the mug’s lip and ran down the sides. “They ARRESTED me.”
Dave had been riffling through Carrie’s toolbox, pulling out devices and peering at them before placing them on the table. “Uh-huh.” He took out another object. It was a large, thick tablet in a plastic wrapper. He held it up. “Do you know what this is?”
Carrie frowned. “No, I don’t. It looks like a dishwasher tablet.”
“Carrie,” Dave said, “it’s a Transgalactic Council Officer device. I don’t think washing dishes is in your remit.”
“Did you hear what I said? They put me under arrest. For doing my job.” Her voice and eyebrows rose in indignation.
Carefully putting down the tablet, her friend paused a moment, his expression uncomfortable. “But...you weren’t really doing your job, were you?”
“What? Of course I was. I’m a Liaison Officer. I was trying to liaise with the placktoids. Resolve the dispute peacefully.”
Dave dug into the bag for another object, avoiding eye contact. “Well, yes, but isn’t your job supposed to be doing what the Transgalactic Council tell you to do? I mean, first of all. If they’d wanted someone to go in there alone, they would have sent someone, wouldn’t they?”
Carrie couldn’t believe her ears. Even Dave, her best friend, didn’t understand. “Just because it wasn’t their idea, it doesn’t mean it was the wrong thing to do.” She added another spoonful of sugar to her tea and vigorously stirred it in, rattling the teaspoon against the sides of the mug.
“What I mean is...” Dave sighed and rubbed his forehead. “...it might have been better to ask Gavin first.”
“That wouldn’t have been very clever of me, would it? If I’d asked him he would have told me not to do it. They’d already made their minds up. Someone had to do something. Just because I was that someone, they decide to punish me for it.”
Her friend opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He appeared to change his mind about what to say. “So, what happens now?”
“Urgh.” Carrie shook her head. “Now I have to go on remedial training. It’s for new recruits and Officers who are on their final warnings. And if I don’t pass, that’s it. Goodbye job. Goodbye journeying between the stars, meeting aliens and having adventures. If I’m not—” she mimed quote marks with her fingers “—trained, I’m stuck here on Earth working in a call centre for a living. I mean, it’s okay, but I want to do something more with my life.” She took a sip of tea. “Anyway, the good thing is, you’re coming with me.”
“What?” Dave pushed his chair away from the table. “No no no.” He waggled a finger at her. “Uh-uh. That’s not happening. Not again. Not after last time. Flying around on ancient mythological beasts? Being chased by giant gods of Ancient Greece? No way, Carrie, no way. I ate their food and drank their drink. I could be immortal.” He pointed at her. “You could be immortal.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Carrie exclaimed. “Look, calm down, all right? It’s perfectly safe. It’s Gavin’s idea, not mine. He said it was the only way he could persuade the Council to let me stay on. He said something about how you were clearly a calming influence on me and I could learn from your sensible, level-headed attitude.” She rolled her eyes. “The thing is, now of course there’s a massive crisis. They don’t have any idea where the placktoids have gone or what they’re doing. They want to increase the Council and Unity presence across the galaxy, so they’re having a huge recruitment drive and sending all the less-qualified candidates on basic training. That’s where we’ll be going.”
“No, Carrie, no.” Dave shook his head and folded his arms. “That’s where you’ll be going. Not me.”
“Oh come on, Dave, it’s just training on board a Council starship. You won’t have to do anything. After a week you’ll be home again. You know they’ll deliver us back here only a minute or two after we leave. Think of it like a holiday without having to take any time off work.”
“Huh, some holiday. The answer’s no. I’m sorry, I know you love it, but I’m not cut out for doing the kinds of things you do. I’m the stay-at-home type.” He got up and took his and Carrie’s mugs to the sink, where he washed them. Carrie frowned at his back. After placing the mugs upside down on the draining board, he returned to his chair and lifted his jacket from the back of it. “A nice, steady, easy job at the call centre. Frida
y nights at the pictures, Saturday nights down the pub. Two weeks in Spain every year. That’s the kind of person I am, Carrie, and I’m not going to change.” He put on his jacket and began to zip it up.
“Put it back.”
Dave’s hand stopped midway. “What? Put what back?”
“Whatever it is you’ve got. You took something from my bag and put it in your jacket pocket before you went to wash the mugs.”
“No I didn’t.” But he looked uncomfortable, and a flush began to creep across his face.
Carrie folded her arms and gazed at her friend.
“Oh, all right,” he said, deflating a little. He took Carrie’s magnetic field neutraliser out of his pocket and put it on the table. “I just wanted to have a closer look. I would have given it back.”
Picking up the neutraliser, Carrie twirled it thoughtfully before placing it carefully in front of her friend. “It isn’t just your condition that makes you take things, is it? You’ve always been fascinated by my Liaison Officer’s tools, haven’t you?”
“Who wouldn’t be? They’re alien technology. They can do things Earth scientists haven’t even dreamed of. They’re fascinating.”
“Sit down a sec.”
He shook his head and zipped his jacket to the top. “I have to go. It’s late and we’ve got work in the morning.”
“Just a minute, okay? I won’t keep you.”
Sighing, Dave sat down. “I hope this isn’t about going on training with you. I’ve told you, there’s no way.”
Carrie held up the neutraliser and looked into her friend’s eyes. “What if I were to tell you that you’d get to know what all of these things do, and how to use them? And not only that, Gavin told me our supplies were being updated with new devices. The very latest technology they have. They’re pushing out all the stops in an effort to protect everyone from the placktoids.”
