by R. L. Ullman
We descend smoothly to the ground, landing smack in the middle of the compartment halves. As I unbuckle myself from the chair, K’ami changes back to her natural form. I see tears in her eyes, but she wipes them away quickly and regains her composure.
“We must find the Shield Box,” she says.
I nod in agreement, but I’m not sure the worst is over. From what the Worm told me there’s a body around here somewhere. Her father’s body.
K’ami heads for one half of the cabin. I search the other.
I enter my side of the cockpit, and what I find astounds me. Every inch of the interior is lined with buttons, switches and monitors of all different shapes and sizes. There are alien markings all over the place that I can’t begin to understand. Towards the front of the ship’s nose is a pilot’s seat and some sort of helmet that’s connected to the roof by a thin cable. I climb inside and take a seat in the chair. I can only imagine what TechnocRat would have thought about all this advanced technology. He’d probably memorize every detail and have it replicated within the hour. Boy, I miss that rat.
Without thinking it through, I reach up, grab the helmet suspended above me, and pull it onto my head.
There’s a loud whirring noise and then all the monitors flick on. Red lights begin flashing all over the place. I have a sneaking suspicion I’ve done something incredibly stupid.
“Stop!” K’ami says, charging in and ripping the helmet off my head.
“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my noggin. That’s going to leave a mark. “Sorry. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”
“Skelton warships operate by sentient control,” she says. “Unless you are intending to send a personal invitation for the Emperor to join us, then I suggest you refrain from touching anything you do not fully understand. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” I answer, sliding off the chair. “Did you ... find anything?”
K’ami pauses for a moment and then looks down. “Yes.”
I feel terrible for her. Although my family is gone, I didn’t face the harsh reality of seeing them dead. In some strange way, I feel lucky. “Then we should give him a proper burial.”
She nods.
I touch her shoulder and exit the cockpit. Immediately upon entering the other side I find his body on the floor. He’s lying face up, his eyes wide open and his arm propped up against the console like he’s hoping someone will help him stand up. His clothes are covered in dried, black blood. It looks like he suffered a slow, agonizing death.
It’s strange seeing the body of a man—an alien man—that I’ve never met before, but know so much about. I step outside and find a piece of wreckage I can use as a shovel and begin digging a large hole. K’ami sits nearby, facing the mountains. I work slowly, giving her time with her thoughts. It takes a while to get the hole deep enough, but when I’m ready, we lift her father’s body and place it inside.
K’ami bows her head and begins the ceremony. “It is tradition to return a noble Skelton man to the soil from which he came. Though we are far from home, my father, R’and Sollarr, gave proof that his was a soul that could not be confined to the soil of just one world. By his brave actions, this world, and all worlds known and unknown, owe him an eternal debt of gratitude. Father, I pledge that I will finish what you have started. Strength be with you in your eternal journey. Never show weakness.”
As day turns to night, we bury him and mark his grave with a large rock.
When we’re done, we rest under the starry sky.
“Those villains back at your headquarters mentioned they were looking for blueprints for a place called Lockdown,” she says. “What is this Lockdown?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. I debate holding the secret back from her, but I have nothing to lose. At this point it’s us against the world. “I guess I should connect the dots for you. Lockdown is a super-maximum jail that holds our most dangerous Meta-powered criminals. We keep the designs for their containment cells on the Waystation.”
“And how do you keep these prisoners confined?” she asks. “Won’t they just break out? Like the Meta-Taker, how do you keep someone like him confined?”
So I explain all the details of Lockdown and how Meta-Taker’s cell works. She tells me there once was a prison moon orbiting Skelton where they sent all of their criminals. One day it was taken over by the prisoners, and all the guards were taken hostage. But instead of negotiating with the criminals to free the captives, the Emperor simply blew up the entire moon, loyal subjects and all. If that’s a preview of things to come I’m far from comforted.
We sit in silence for a while.
Then she says, “I thank you, Elliott Harkness. I thank you for everything. What do you say on your planet? Now we are BFs?”
“No, K’ami,” I smile back. “It’s called BFFs. And yes, I feel the same.”
She brushes a strand of hair from her face. It’s hard to tell from her alien complexion, but I think she’s blushing.
“I guess we should try to find the Shield Box?” I say, quickly changing the subject. “The Worm says he didn’t take it with him, so it must be around here somewhere.”
“But where?” K’ami says.
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Where would you be hiding if you were a Shield Box?”
“What did you say?” K’ami says, snapping to attention.
“Me?” I say. “Nothing. It’s just an expression. You know, like, if you were a Shield Box, where would you be?”
“That’s it!” K’ami says.
“That’s what?”
“The Shield Box,” she says. “It must not be just a box! It’s alive!”
“What is it with you aliens and everything being alive?” I ask.
“You do not understand. On the red moon orbiting Skelton lives a rare creature with remarkably dense skin. Every cycle, each of these creatures produces a gem that is highly valued on our planet. They bury themselves in the ground until they are ready to hatch. When they climb to the surface, they are harvested for their bounty. Then, they dig back underground and do it all over again.”
“You mean, like an oyster?” I say.
“Somewhat,” she says, standing up. “They are large, simple organisms, impervious to any form of stimulation: electricity, fire, water ... and, apparently, mind control. On our world they are known as Sheelds.”
I’m still confused.
“On your world,” says K’ami, “they would be spelled S-H-E-E-L-D-S.”
“Wait a minute,” I say. “So this S-H-I-E-L-D Box we’ve been looking for is really an S-H-E-E-L-D Box? Made of one of these alien thingies?”
“Yes,” she says. “I am certain of it. It is here, but it has probably buried itself somewhere.” K’ami drops to her hands and knees. “Help me look.”
I join her and together we comb through every inch of rock surface surrounding the wreck, but can’t turn up anything. When we finish, we’re completely spent. There’s no sign of it anywhere on the mountain. It seems hopeless.
Then my eyes drift back to the cockpit, and I have a flash of inspiration.
“Can these things dig through stuff harder than rock?” I ask.
“I suppose so,” K’ami says. “They operate purely on instinct. If they are frightened they would burrow through anything to reach safety.”
“Right,” I say. “The Worm told me he opened the box right when he got his grubby little hands on it.”
“Do you think?” K’ami says.
“Follow me.” And, I lead her back into the cockpit where we found her father.
We look down and, sure enough, there it is. A round hole cut straight through the metal of the ship and into the underlying rock. Right beneath the area her father was lying. We missed it.
K’ami kneels down and starts scooping out metal shards and loose dirt. After a few minutes, she reaches in elbow-deep and pulls out a strange looking object that’s slightly bigger than her palm. It’s square and brown with a thick, rippled hide. If you were
n’t paying attention, you could easily mistake it for a leather box.
“That’s a Sheeld?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “This is a Sheeld.”
“And it’s alive?” I say.
K’ami tickles it’s underside and it opens up, revealing its fleshy, red interior. “Yes,” she says. “Thankfully.”
Then I notice something strange stuck to the roof of its mouth. It looks like a small, blue disc.
It’s pulsating.
“What’s that?” I ask.
K’ami peers inside and her expression turns dark. She grabs the disc and crushes it in her hand.
“What is it?” I ask.
“A Skelton tracking device,” K’ami says. “The Blood Bringers are coming.”
I GO STRAIGHT TO THE SLAMMER
So here’s the situation. On the one hand, we have a Meta 1 villain armed with the most powerful weapon in the universe trying to take over the world. On the other, we have a group of psycho extra-terrestrials speeding to Earth to destroy it. And somehow, stuck in the middle of it all, with the fate of the entire galaxy hanging in the balance, is an alien fly-girl and yours truly.
It certainly doesn’t inspire confidence.
After much heated debate, K’ami and I finally agree that we can only deal with one twisted reality at a time. And, since the Blood Bringers haven’t even shown up yet, that leaves us with one viable option. So, we hightail it to Lockdown to take out the Worm.
The place looks exactly as I remember it.
By day, it’s the most impressive prison facility in the world. By night, it’s the keeper of nightmares.
As we approach, it’s hard not to feel like ants marching towards an elephant. First, we’re greeted by a fifty-foot perimeter wall that’s smothered in razor wire and motion sensors. We follow the wall until we reach the front gates—massive structures forged from impenetrable tungsten steel. Guard towers are stationed every twenty feet outfitted with spotlights and ground-to-air machine guns. Inside the perimeter, the main building rises like a steel octopus, soaring hundreds of feet high with eight separate wings sprouting out like tentacles.
I’d visited Lockdown once before to drop off Dad’s lunch after he accidentally left it at home. I was so freaked out I didn’t go any farther than the front gates. This time I won’t be so lucky.
Well before we’d even reached the gates, I noticed a few things that set my spine tingling. First, there’s no one around. Normally, the place is swarming with guards, maintenance workers and hundreds of other people. But at the moment, the prison looks like a ghost town. And as disconcerting as that is, unfortunately, it’s not the most disturbing thing. That distinction goes to the front gates themselves, which are currently sitting wide open. Typically, you’d need a Meta 4 assault to get inside the place. But today, the prison seems to be inviting us in. And, I’m pretty sure neither of us thinks that’s a good thing.
I turn to K’ami, her face a picture of determination.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“The Orb is here,” she says. “I sense it.”
“Then it’s up to us,” I say. “Never show weakness.”
“Never show weakness,” she agrees.
We step through the gates and head for the main building. We move warily, our eyes darting about the compound for signs of life, but there’s nothing.
A few minutes later we reach the main building. The doors are closed. A sign on the building reads:
Stop! Extreme Danger! Official Access Only.
I turn the door handle and push. The door swings open. It all seems way too easy.
It seems like a trap.
I can tell Kami’s thinking the same thing. But, what other choice do we have? She nods and we go inside.
The hallway is dark and narrow. Small sconces line the walls, providing enough light to see only a few feet in front of us before we are swallowed up into darkness. The hum from the air conditioning system provides a steady stream of white noise, accompanied by freezing cold air. K’ami shivers and crosses her arms.
“What now?” I ask.
“Now,” she says, “we go forward.”
On our left we pass a doorway to the main control room. Through a skinny window we see several computer stations and monitoring kiosks. All of them are unmanned.
The hallway veers left before presenting another set of doors. A sign above reads:
Meta Wing M: Meta-morphs. Official Access Only.
A half-smashed security interface is dangling from the wall, and when I push on the doors, they open without triggering an alarm.
We step inside.
The light is somewhat brighter here, but it’s still kind of dim. It’s clear we’ve entered another long and narrow corridor, only this one is flanked by dozens of cells. Some of the cell doors have windows and others don’t. Cell numbers are displayed prominently above each door and a small sign hangs to the right of each doorway.
We move down the hall.
The cells seem to be grouped by Meta class, starting with the Meta 1’s. All the cells are closed, and I can see through the doors with windows that their respective residents are still locked up inside.
I read the signs as we move past. It’s like a “Who’s Who” of the evil and notorious:
Cell# M3: Pliable Pete – Meta 1. Can contort body into various shapes. Beware: may disguise self as food tray or utensil to procure exit.
Cell# M5: Amphibia – Meta 1. Can transform into water form. Beware: may float upside down to fake own death.
Cell# M7: Double Trouble – Meta 1. Can split into two identical beings. Beware: may instigate fight with self to cause false distraction.
We then hit the Meta 2 section. The precaution language gets more serious.
Cell# M11: Pois-Anne – Meta 2. Poison kiss can paralyze. Warning: may fake need for mouth to mouth resuscitation.
Cell# M13: Mud Monster – Meta 2: Body is made of chemically altered mud. Warning: may try to sneak parts of body out as mud stains on clothing or bottom of shoes.
Cell# M17: The Phantom Raider – Meta 2: Can turn invisible. Warning: may appear not to be in cell, but trust us—he’s in there.
It’s too quiet. I can sense that something’s just waiting to trip us up. Then we reach the Meta 3 section, and my heart skips a beat.
Every cell door is busted open.
Every. Freaking. One.
I quickly skim the signs:
Cell# M21: Flameout – Meta 3: Can transform into a being of pure fire. Danger: do not enter under any circumstance! No smoking allowed!
Cell# M23: Black Cloud – Meta 3: Can transform into gaseous clouds emitting toxic fumes. Danger: do not enter under any circumstance! Do not break door seal!
Cell# M25: Berserker – Meta 3: Can transform into a giant beast of inhuman strength. Danger: do not enter under any circumstance! Beware of pet dander!
When we reach cell M27 all the hairs on my neck stand on end.
Cell #M27: Meta-Taker – Meta 3: Can duplicate the powers of any Meta. Danger: do not enter under any circumstance! Do not leave unmonitored!
I’m instantly transported back to my face-to-face encounter with Meta-Taker. I can see his chalky white skin. Smell his hot, rotten breath.
I can’t believe it. The Worm did it! He actually freed the most dangerous Metas on the planet. And then I realize, we’re only in the Meta-morph wing. What about all the Meta 3 Psychics? Or the Meta 3 Energy Manipulators? Or ...
I grab K’ami’s arm. “We can’t win this! We’ve got to get out of here!”
K’ami slaps me hard across the face. Boy, does she love doing that.
“Elliott Harkness,” she says. “You are the savior of the universe and your planet’s only hope. Pull yourself together.”
I feel ashamed. She’s right. I have to pull myself together. My whole life I’ve been dreaming of being a Meta. Now, without my family here, it’s all up to me. I can’t let them down. Even if I die, I’m going to m
ake them proud. I start running her words through my mind over and over again. Never show weakness. Never show weakness. Never show weakness.
K’ami points to the end of the hallway at yet another set of double doors. “The Orb of Oblivion is through there.”
We approach slowly. Both of us know that whatever’s standing behind these doors may be the last thing we ever see.
I look at K’ami and she nods. I take a deep breath.
Never show weakness.
Then I push the doors open.
I BATTLE A SLIMY WORM TO THE DEATH
“Come on out,” The Worm squeals. “Welcome to your funeral.”
The doors let out to a massive courtyard that’s roughly the size of two football fields, and open to the night sky. It has an uneven octagonal shape formed by the walls of the eight building wings. Fittingly, it feels like we’re stepping into the Roman Colosseum.
The Worm stands proudly in the center, surrounded by the greatest army of Meta 3 villains ever assembled.
“Oh, man,” I whisper to K’ami. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. They’re all here.”
“Who are they?” she whispers back.
“Only the most dangerous supervillains on the planet,” I whisper. “Strongmen, Speedsters, Psychics, Magicians, Flyers, Energy Manipulators, Intellects, and last, but not least, the Meta-morphs. There must be over fifty of them.”
With all of their various sizes, shapes, and colors, it’s like staring into a kaleidoscope of terror. I quickly pin-point Meta-Taker, who is standing to the Worm’s left.
My whole body is trembling. Beads of sweat trickle down my temples. I take a deep breath and then K’ami and I enter the arena, stopping twenty yards from the Worm.
I scan the villains. “Look at their faces, they’re all blank. The Worm and the Orb are controlling them.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of movement in the back of the motionless crowd. It’s Makeshift. He’s rocking back and forth like he’s nervous.
Before we left the Meta-morph wing, I stuffed the Sheeld into my front pants pocket. It’s bulging slightly so I try to cover it with my hand as naturally as possible.
