by David Lubar
“I think he just took a selfie with us,” Henrietta said as the brief video of Nicholas in mid flinch looped, playing now with the audio that had just been added. “Like you do when you’re flexing your muscles after taking a shower.”
“I just did that once,” Nicholas said. “Maybe twice…”
“Let’s go before the Yewpees get here,” Clave said, collapsing the tube like a spyglass and sliding it into a pocket on his pants leg. “You are very wanted at the moment.”
“You’re not arresting me?” Nicholas asked.
“No. I’m recruiting you, on behalf of the president of Central Klizmick,” Clave said. “What’s wrong? You appear reluctant to join me.”
“Pirates … swords…” Nicholas said.
“Those were beloved and celebrated historic figures from your home planet,” Clave said. “I researched it when I was traveling here. Not that I had much time. But I picked a comforting image because I didn’t want to startle you.”
“By slamming into the ship, tearing it open, and waving swords in the air while you charged at me screaming ‘Arg’?” Nicholas asked.
Clave tapped his shoulder with his right little finger. His pirate outfit wavered and vanished, revealing he was actually wearing a simple pilot’s coveralls. At the same time, the holographic pirates faded away. “Well, the hole in the hull part was sort of necessary, given that we’re in somewhat of a rush. Wait! Hole in the hull. That’s a winner! Technically, it’s a hatch. But that doesn’t matter. My fans will love it. I really have a way with words. I’m highly flatulent.”
“You mean fluent.” Nicholas, like any boy who’d gone through elementary school, knew pretty much every synonym or euphemism for farts.
“That, too.” Clave retrieved the tube, snapped a clip of the opening in the hull, repeated the hole/hull phrase, then herded Nicholas toward that very opening. “We really need to leave, right now.”
Careful, Jeef said. The last time I was herded, I woke up wrapped in plastic.
Clave glanced at Jeef. “Wait. Which one of you is Nicholas?”
“Me,” Nicholas said. He pictured himself in a package. The image made him shudder and smile at the same time. He really didn’t imagine he’d ever be in danger of being fed through a meat grinder.
This is good evidence of his lack of omniscience.
“Okay,” Clave said. “I just wanted to make sure.”
“Who are you?” Nicholas asked. While it made sense to get off the Craborzi ship, it also seemed like a good idea to find out what he was walking into. “Where are we going? And how can we understand each other? Not that I’m totally sure we do.”
Clave answered the first two questions with a single slightly rambling sentence—he was a freelance courier, taking Nicholas to Menmar at the request of the president of the ruling country of that planet, and he’d gotten the mission because he happened to be the closest courier at the time—but he sidestepped the third question by saying, “It would be difficult to explain Ubiquitous Matrix Dispersion to a barbarian.”
“I’m sure it would,” Nicholas said, before it dawned on him that he was the implied barbarian.
By then, they’d reached the bridge, which pretty much made up Clave’s ship, except for a small area of living quarters to the rear, separated from the bridge by a corridor lined with supply lockers, and a cargo space that ran the length of the underside.
“Wait, what if I don’t want to go to this planet?” Nicholas asked.
Clave stared at him, which made Nicholas feel slightly creeped out, though he didn’t know exactly why. “Are you saying you’d rather not voyage through space and see wonders you can’t even imagine existed? If that’s the case, I have to tell you I am deeply disappointed, and sorry I accepted the assignment.”
“No. I want to do that,” Nicholas said. He was up for an adventure. And if it included unimaginable wonders, all the better. “Are you okay with this?” he asked Henrietta.
“One cage is as good as another,” she said.
Barns are better, Jeef said. I miss my barn.
Clave went to a control panel that looked like the one for the Craborzi teleporter and tapped some buttons. “That should do it,” he said. He went to a longer panel that faced a viewport, plopped down into a seat, and reached both hands into the navcom field, which was a 3-D image filled with discs of various colors, dots of varying brightness, and clusters of concentric circles tilted at various angles. “Detach,” he said.
“Detaching,” a voice said from the console.
Nicholas heard a whirring sound overlaid with a series of metallic clacks, and felt tiny vibrations as the boarding tunnel detached from the Craborzi ship and retracted into Clave’s vessel. He could see the ship through the viewport. “That’s it? It looks like a metal box.”
“It’s not a lander,” Clave said. “No need for anything fancy.”
Nicholas felt a short burst of acceleration that reminded him of a bus or a subway car jolting to a start. He took a step sideways to catch his balance. The Craborzi ship shrank in the viewport.
“The jump node’s not far,” Clave said. “We don’t want to go too fast. The Yewpees will be swooping in. If they see us racing away from that ship, they’ll know something’s up.”
Nicholas thought about all the spacecraft he’d seen on TV and in the movies, including the Millennium Falcon and the Enterprise. “What’s your ship’s name?” he asked.
“Name?” Clave’s eyebrows moved down a thirty-secondth of an inch. “Why would it have a name?”
“Because…” Nicholas searched for a good explanation. Nothing came to mind. “Just because.”
“I don’t see the point. It’s not like I need to call it from across the room, or tell it that it’s doing a good job.”
“Can I name it?” Nicholas asked.
There you go again, Jeef said.
Nicholas ignored her and started spitting out suggestions. “Rocket Racer, Laser Drifter, Storm Runner. Nova-gator. No, wait! I got it. Space Zipper. That’s perfect.”
“I believe that’s a primitive means of fastening clothing,” Clave said.
“Oh, right. I was thinking about zipping through space. But that’s a good point. I need to give this some time.”
“Take all you need,” Clave said. “I’m sure you’re a little dazzled by learning how small your place in the universe is.”
That reminded Nicholas of a more immediate question. “Why did you call me a barbarian?”
“Did I?” Clave said.
“You did. Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Clave said.
“That’s not an answer,” Nicholas said. “Why did you call me that?”
“It’s much shorter and kinder than backwater simpleton from an insignificant marginally civilized petro-cloaked planet,” Clave said.
“Oh. Thanks, I guess,” Nicholas said. “What’s petro-cloaked?”
“It’s complicated. Stop asking questions,” Clave said. “Just relax and enjoy the flight.”
“Flight … Flyer … Got it! Fly Speck,” Nicholas said, remembering Jeef’s attempt to flick her tail. “That’s a good name for it. You know what that means, right? It’s tiny little bits of fly poop.”
Clave ignored him. Henrietta snickered. Jeef’s mind was elsewhere. Well, at least a fairly large portion of it was elsewhere, permanently.
Nicholas amused himself by staring at the stars and thinking up other uncomplimentary names for the ship until Clave tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the viewport.
“There they are,” Clave whispered. “Keep your voice down.”
“Can they hear us?” Nicholas whispered back.
“Of course not,” Clave said. “I was just having fun with you.”
“Wonderful.” Nicholas watched as a blip in the distance grew more distinct, revealing a shape like two hourglasses stuck side by side. It was far above them, so there was no danger of collision. Still, Nicholas held his breath as the
ship passed overhead. The whole time he watched the ship, his gut was gripped with the same guilty clench he’d felt when he’d sneaked past the school guard with his light saber tucked into the back of his shirt.
Clave swiped his hand across the viewport. The image shifted to the rear of the ship, showing the Yewpees moving away. “We’re clear.”
As Nicholas’s innards relaxed, an idea hit him. “Hey!” he shouted. He waved his hands. “You missed us. We’re here. Come back! Save me! I’m being kidnapped!”
Clave spun in his seat. “What are you doing?”
“Having fun with you.”
“That wasn’t funny,” Clave muttered.
“You were startled, weren’t you?”
“Not at all.”
“I had you.”
“Hardly.”
“You totally thought they’d heard me.”
“Totally didn’t.” Clave turned away. “Wait! They’re coming back.”
Nicholas felt the panic return. Then, Clave laughed.
“Very funny,” Nicholas said.
“Totally hilarious,” Clave said.
As the Yewpee ship shrank to a dot, Clave restored the front view. Several minutes later, he pointed at the viewport. “And there’s the jump node.”
“Where?” Nicholas asked. “I don’t see anything.”
“Just wait,” Clave said. “You’re about to see something you’ll never forget.”
Nicholas watched and waited. He wondered whether Clave was playing another prank on him. But then, for the second time that day, or possibly the tenth, he found himself staring at a sight that filled him with awe, and drove home the feeling that he himself was barely more than a fly speck in the universe. It would not spoil anything to point out that, given what we already know, he was very wrong about his place in history. But he was not wrong to be awed.
A WORD ABOUT PIRATES
Those of you who enjoy tales of pirates will be happy to learn that there are indeed space-faring pirates of various sorts scattered throughout the universe, ranging from solo adventurers in stealth raider ships who specialize in looting unoccupied vessels, all the way up to massive crews in moon-sized death galleons who will assault both other ships and poorly protected planets. You will be less happy to learn that none of these real pirates play a major role in our story.
However, just as piracy on the oceans helped show the need for maritime law on planets throughout the universe, and for organizations to enforce that law, piracy between the stars is responsible, in large part, for the formation of the Universal Police, or Yewpees, as they are commonly called. Since Nicholas’s assault of the Craborzi happened beyond the range of planetary jurisdiction, the Yewpees became responsible for apprehending him and bringing him to trial.
Of course, just because there is an organization to handle off-planet crimes doesn’t mean that those back home are always happy to let justice take its course. When the Flamenco Dance of Death was viewed on Craborz, where Let’s Cut Things Up! was especially popular, a hit squad was dispatched. Three of Craborz’s top assassins set out to seek vengeance, traveling in a highly maneuverable and heavily armed OmniShip. They swore an oath to hunt for Nicholas until they found him, captured him, and killed him. Slowly. Very slowly. On camera.
WELCOME TO THE UNIVERSE
“It’s like a green star,” Nicholas said. The node actually looked like those spiked stars some people put on top of Christmas trees, except the spikes were made of bright lines, like a wire-frame diagram. They extended both outward and inward toward the center. The node was far larger than an ornament, but significantly smaller than an actual star. And it wasn’t purple, which pleased Nicholas. He looked to the side of the screen, where part of Earth was still in view.
“That’s so cool,” Nicholas said. “Why can’t we see it with our telescopes?”
“It’s naturally cloaked,” Clave said as the ship came to a stop in the center of the jump node.
“Why?” Nicholas asked.
“Nobody knows.”
“How?”
“It’s complicated,” Clave said. “But that’s how cloaking technology was discovered. Scientists learned about it by studying the nodes. It’s the same effect that tour ships use when visiting Earth.”
“Tourists?” Nicholas asked. “Aliens visit Earth?”
“Actually, you’re the aliens.”
“But they visit?”
“All the time,” Clave said. “It’s fine, as long as we remain cloaked and don’t interfere with the alien life-forms. At least, that’s the rule. But people have been known to break it. Though most visitors have been cautious after the unfortunate incident.”
“What incident?” Nicholas asked.
“Extinction. A visit wiped out the dominant intelligent life-form on Earth,” Clave said. “It was a regrettable accident.”
“What?” It took Nicholas a moment to process the implications of this. If intelligent life had been wiped out at some point, that meant there’d been intelligent life on Earth before the current tenants.
“Was there an ancient civilization?” He’d gotten a book from the library once about the greatest unsolved mysteries on Earth, including Stonehenge and the Easter Island statues that look like giant heads. It would be awesome to learn who had made those things. He pictured hairless beings with large heads, big round eyes, and names that didn’t contain any vowels.
“Hardly civilized,” Clave said. “They were enormous. And enormously hungry. They were constantly battling each other. Still, from what I understand, they seemed quite intelligent, for lizards. And they did manage to develop a bit of culture, despite having comically short arms. They had an amazing opera. They loved ballet, too, though they were not very light on their feet.”
“Wait. You’re talking about dinosaurs.” Nicholas realized he could learn the answer to one of Earth’s greatest unsolved mysteries. “What wiped them out?”
“On your world, I believe they are called goats,” Clave said. “A tourist allowed their pair of pet goats to escape. The next thing you know, they’re devastating a major food source. The herbivores were picky eaters. Once they’d died out, the carnivores, who were also picky eaters, followed. The goats thrived because they could eat just about anything.”
“Goats?” Nicholas asked. “Goats are aliens?”
“Can’t you tell?” Clave said. “Did you ever take a good look at one?”
“I guess not,” Nicholas said. His effort to picture dancing dinosaurs and alien goats was interrupted by another voice.
“Range is zero,” the ship said as it tilted toward one of the spikes. “Jump sequence to Menmar is established. Awaiting command.”
“Hang on. We’re ready to jump.” Clave pulled a lever on his console. Small panels slid back, revealing a line of sixteen square holes, each about four inches wide. A black cube rose from a clear container next to the panel, and floated down to fill the first hole. A second cube appeared to fill the next hole. In all, seven cubes filled the first seven holes.
Nicholas noticed there were four cubes left in the container. “What are those?” he asked.
“It’s complicated,” Clave said.
After the seventh cube had settled into its slot, Clave buckled himself into a complex web of harnesses that extended from the back and arms of his seat.
Nicholas took the other seat. He put Henrietta in his pocket, and Jeef on the floor next to him. “Shouldn’t I strap in?” he asked. He checked his chair for harnesses but didn’t see any.
“Why?” Clave said.
“Acceleration,” Nicholas said. He liked the thought that he’d finally get to whoosh through space. The trip, so far, had been fairly unexciting, except for several brief moments of terror.
“Jumps through hyperspace don’t involve motion, so there’s no inertia,” Clave said.
“Then why are you strapped in?” Nicholas asked.
“Regulations.” Clave pulled a second lever. “Here we go.”
There was a small pop. Nicholas saw the cube shoot from the ship. It left a trail of ghost cubes, forming a line from the ship to the tip of the spike in front of them.
“But regulations are—” Nicholas stopped in midsentence as his body was flooded by a rather different sensation than the unpleasant inflation/deflation of teleportation. A hyperjump was more like falling in several directions at once. It was exhilarating. And brief. The trail of ghost cubes vanished. There were suddenly more spikes in the jump node, and a completely different star field in the background. The ship tilted toward one of the new spikes and fired another cube. Nicholas felt he was falling in several other directions, also all at once. Now, there were fewer spikes. The ship fired another cube. This happened a total of seven times. Then, the sensations stopped. A microsecond after that, before his mouth could form the words his brain had fed it—That was fun!—Nicholas was violently booted from his seat. He hurtled upward, along with his fellow backwater-planet companions. The ship appeared to be spinning like a badly off-center playground kickball in midflight.
Fearing that something had gone terribly wrong, Nicholas managed another spectacular catch of Henrietta. He missed Jeef, who splatted against the ceiling next to him. Fortunately her wrapper didn’t burst. He snatched up Jeef as the tumbling continued, throwing the three of them against the rear bulkhead.
“What the roach-brained mega-mess!” Nicholas screamed, using a rare augmentation of his standard exclamation.
“Oh, right,” Clave said as he stabilized the ship. “I forgot about that. Sorry. I’ve got a cargo hold full of scrap gold I’m supposed to dump. That throws things off a bit, though it’s not usually so rough.”
“Maybe it’s not rough for you because you’re strapped into a padded chair,” Nicholas said.
“Good point,” Clave said. “Normally, I wouldn’t be hopping all over the place with it. I was headed for that hot planet of yours. Mercury? It’s been approved for dumping. But I got the call to pick you up before I managed to go there. Too bad. Gold really messes up navigation. I hate lugging it all over the place. But they offered me a fee I couldn’t resist.”
