by T. J. Land
“Given that you’re almost certainly a hallucination, I would contest the assertion that this place is ‘yours’,” the captain retorted. “In the unlikely event that you are real, why did you bring me here? What are your intentions?”
“I saw your ship land. I saw your crew disembark. I wanted to get a closer look at you. As stated, it has been a long time since I last had company.”
“We were unaware this world was inhabited by…by beings such as yourself.”
“It isn’t. I am the last,” said the green man. “And this is not my real body. In the hopes of facilitating our conversation, I adjusted my form to match yours. Quite good, is it not? I crafted it by taking traits from each of your mates.”
Yes, now that he looked, he could see that the man had Zachery’s strong jaw, Thomas’s Cupid’s bow mouth, Rick’s snub nose, Echo’s high forehead, and Antoine’s bright, clever eyes.
“I see. How do you explain your grasp of English?”
The alien tossed its head arrogantly. “Picking up your primitive tongue was the work of an hour or so of eavesdropping.”
As they spoke, the captain recognized the effect the alien’s unwavering attention was beginning to have on him. His psyche was host to a pronounced strain of exhibitionism and responded eagerly to scrutiny, to being looked at, appreciated, lusted after. Despite having no idea whether the alien was capable of sexual attraction, he felt his cock—which had never entirely softened after his dream—begin to thicken.
“Where did you come from, foreigner?” asked the alien.
“A distant world, to which I cannot return. My crew and I had hoped to make a new life for ourselves on this one. May I ask a question? Why did you call yourself ‘the last’?”
The alien lowered his eyes and replied in sorrowful tones, “All the others are dead. We were mighty; for millennia, we were mighty. Now we are nothing. Our cities are dust. Our culture has been dead for two thousand years.”
“Yet you remain. How?”
“How what, foreigner?”
“How are you still here if the rest of your species is dead?”
“Because I am not dead yet.”
Huffing, the captain sat back, folding his arms. “I am in no mood to be teased. Today has presented me more than enough aggravations as it is.”
“You are injured,” the alien noted, looking at his bloodied forehead.
“I fell from a great height. Thanks to you.”
“Not so great. We are a mere handful of metres below ground. Your species must be exceedingly fragile. Or perhaps it is you who is fragile? I saw the way you were suffering earlier. Are you sickly?”
“Among my kind, such questions are considered ill-mannered.”
“I apologize,” the alien sighed. “My aptitude for polite conversation has withered with the years. Sickly or otherwise, your physical form is superb.”
“Hmph. Are we flirting now, then?” Though the captain feigned nonchalance, he had, for the last few minutes, observed that the alien was stiffening, although whether this was any sure indicator of arousal was uncertain. It was, it claimed, a shapeshifter; perhaps it was imitating him.
Instead of responding, the alien got to its feet, revealing itself to be about eight feet tall. The captain’s eyes widened fractionally as his new companion stretched, shamelessly displaying a body that combined Zachery’s musculature with Antoine’s effortless grace.
“My senses are more acute than yours. Would it be ‘ill-mannered’ if I were to ask you why your heart rate has increased, and why small protrusions have appeared on your chest?” asked the alien.
Hunching down in a feeble effort to hide his pebbled nipples, which his skintight suit did nothing to curtail, the captain growled, “It’s cold.”
“Is it? I had not noticed. Is vulnerability to mild temperature changes another symptom of your illness?”
The alien had moved to stand over him. His weight rested on his left leg while the other tilted inward, the contrapposto drawing the captain’s gaze inexorably towards his cock.
“You…you say you crafted your current body by observing my men. How did you achieve such, er…anatomical accuracy? My men are fully clothed.”
“Not all the time.”
Ah. Thomas and Rick.
“I take care to pay attention to detail when creating new shapes for myself,” the alien continued, obviously proud of his efforts.
“I can see that,” said the captain. It wasn’t empty flattery. Despite the pain and his many, many reservations, he was tempted to get himself up onto his knees—if he could—and get to work worshipping his new friend with his mouth.
“I do not care to show you my true form, as I believe you would find it disturbing. Nonetheless, there was a time long ago when I was considered to be well formed. Prospective mates competed for the right to taste my body. And, like you, I enjoyed sex. In view of this commonality of interest, do you think that we should have some?”
“Generally speaking, I make a point of avoiding sex with people whose names I don’t know.”
“I see. Introductions, then. My name is Rux.”
“Captain Amirmoez.” He wasn’t comfortable dispensing his first name to this stranger when he hadn’t yet given it to Thomas, Rick, and Zachery.
As Rux crouched down in front of him, the captain noticed that his body had a strange, powerful scent, not unlike burning wood.
“Your body doesn’t seem all that complicated,” said the alien, its bone-rattling voice dropping an octave deeper. “I’m sure I can work it out, given my superior intellect.”
“Did your species really die out, or did they find your bloated ego irritating and abandon you here?” inquired the captain.
“You’re rather ill-mannered yourself, foreigner,” said Rux, reaching for the bulge in the captain’s suit.
The alien’s skin was far hotter than a human’s. Even through the Kevlar, it was as though his cock was being fondled by oven mitts that had recently clasped a hot coal. Most men would have found the sensation uncomfortable. The captain added it to a list of personal fetishes that would already have filled up ten of Antoine’s notebooks.
“Forgive my haste, foreigner. I usually spend far more time seducing my lovers. I have been alone for so long…”
Pity blanketed the captain’s heart. He understood loneliness. The four years he had spent without the companionship his new quintet afforded him had taught him to loathe it all the more.
Rux’s tongue was human-shaped, but slightly too long, and its texture was rough and catlike as it dragged down the captain’s neck.
“Wait,” the captain said, before he forgot himself entirely. “We can do this later. I need to find my crew.”
“Oh. Can’t they wait? They’ve been without you for hours. I’m sure they’ll last a while longer.”
The captain set his jaw. Rux conceded defeat and drew back. “Very well, very well. I will help you return to your crew. Then, afterwards…?”
“Afterwards, I’ll let you have me any way you like,” said the captain, watching the alien’s eyes flash with hunger.
“The entrance to my lair is concealed by a holograph. Unless they were to step on it, your men would not know it was there. If they were searching for you, they’ve probably moved on by now.”
“Then let’s hurry.”
Without further hesitation, the alien scooped him up as though he weighed no more than the ship’s cat.
“Some warning would be nice,” the captain said, although he was entertaining ideas as to how such brute strength might be best put to use in the bedroom. Dear God—and to think he’d worried Antoine might bring home uncanny alien fauna.
Chapter Six
Thomas sat with Moxie in his lap, stroking her mechanically. She was as upset as the rest of them and had spent the last ten minutes conveying her distress by biting the shit out of his hand whenever his strokes became uneven.
They’d activated the holographic map of the planet Ant
oine had spent the last two months constructing, and it hung in the middle of the bridge like a Christmas ornament, all blue and shiny.
“This is where we lost him,” said Antoine, pointing at the map. “This circle represents the area we’ve inspected. This circle represents the maximum distance in any direction he could have walked under his own power if he started moving from the last moment any of us saw him up to the moment we started looking. This circle…”
The rest of them were slumped around the table, or against the walls, exhausted but concentrating on Antoine’s every word. Zachery and Khali were pacing the room like restless lions. Echo was staring straight ahead, gaunt and ghostly. Thomas didn’t want to know what was going on in his head.
“If we are to work from the position that this planet is host to an entity or entities who wish us harm, the most pressing question is to establish whether they pose a threat to the ship itself,” Antoine continued. “In light of… Yes, Rick, what is it?”
Rick had stuck his hand in the air like a kid in a lecture hall. Glancing his way, Thomas couldn’t help but notice that, of all of them, Rick looked the worst. His eyes were bloodshot, and he’d bitten his nails so far down that two of them had started to bleed.
“Sorry for interrupting, Ant—sir, but I was wondering if we should get the other guns out? We do have more guns, right?”
“We have a few spare laser rifles. And at least two of us are proficient in their use,” said Antoine, nodding at Thomas and Irene. “That said, we have no idea whether they will work on our enemies, as we know nothing about our enemies save for the fact that they’re fast enough and strong enough to kidnap or devour a grown man.”
Chewing at his lip, Rick said, “Okay, so what if we used the ship’s weapons to blow something up? Like, if we aimed the missiles at the mountain and took a big chunk out of it?”
“And what would that achieve, Rick?”
“Well, if they’re watching us, it would show ’em that we mean business, and they shouldn’t mess with us. Maybe even scare them into giving the captain back.”
“Er,” said Antoine, taken aback. “That’s an…interesting idea, but…”
“Fuck me; how can you be this dense?” Zachery exploded, turning to Rick, his face red with anger. “I dismantled the weapons systems, remember? When we needed to fix the engines, because this stupid fucking crate should have been decommissioned decades ago? Christ, I know you’re a pothead, but I didn’t think you were that fucking oblivious.”
Ah, hell, thought Thomas, wincing. He expected Rick to lose it right there, expected both of them to be rolling around on the floor trading blows in seconds.
What he didn’t expect was for Rick to sit there, his lips parted, and… Oh, no. Fucking tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Faltering, Zachery stepped back, clearing his throat. Before he could say another word, Rick stood up and walked quickly and silently out of the room, his shoulders hunched and his head down.
“Nice work, asshole,” Thomas growled at Zachery. Dumping Moxie onto the floor, he stormed out after him.
He found him in the corridor outside, curled up against the wall, his knees drawn in and his face in his hands.
“Hey, little man,” Thomas said, getting down next to him. “You all right? Don’t pay attention to Zach. He’s a jackass; everyone knows that.”
Rick sniffed, wetly, and glared up at him. “No, he’s not. Don’t say that. He’s worried about the captain, same as us. I’m not upset because of him.”
“Oh. Well…good. That’s good.” Awkwardly, Thomas patted his shoulder, wondering what else he should do. He was a complete deadweight when it came to dealing with tears.
“Dude,” Rick said, dragging the back of his hand across his nose. “I’ve had your dick in my mouth. I know you don’t want to be boyfriends because you’re emotionally dead inside, or whatever, but is a fucking hug too much to ask?”
“God, you are such a pain,” Thomas muttered, wrapping both arms around him. “Don’t get your snot on me.”
Burying his face in Thomas’s chest, Rick mumbled, “Do you think he’s okay?”
“The captain? He’s the biggest badass I’ve ever known. I mean, he’s put up with us for four years. No way he gets eaten up by some alien just like that. And if he’s not okay—and he is—we’re going to survive. You’ve still got me, and we’ve still got Antoine, and he’s a badass too. Even if he does act like a prissy bitch sometimes.”
Rick gave the ghost of a smile.
“And even if he does look kind of like a giraffe,” Thomas added.
At that, Rick hiccoughed a laugh. “He so does. That neck, man.”
Thomas smiled and cupped his cheek. “Tell you what; when we’ve got the captain back, I’ll teach you how to give a proper handjob. You’re cute, but you hold a guy’s dick like you’re milking a cow.”
“Fuck you,” Rick retorted but accepted a nuzzle without complaint.
✩✩✩
When the captain emerged from Rux’s lair, it was some hours past dawn. The sky was overcast and the plains blanketed with fog. There was no sign of the crew.
“As I predicted, your men have left you,” said the alien. “A shame. Can we have sex now?”
“Antoine will have taken them back to the ship,” said the captain. He looked to the horizon, but the fog was thicker in the distance, and he had difficulty making out The Prayer. Eventually, he spotted it several miles away from the landing zone, moving slowly and staying close to the ground.
“They’ll be looking for me. Come on,” he said, stepping forward. Then he shouted inarticulately, pain surging up from the base of his spine.
“Your affliction still troubles you,” Rux noted, peering down at him.
Ignoring him, the captain ran his eyes over the grass. His pills were nowhere to be seen. Which meant that the crew had found them. Damn. So much for privacy.
“I myself have never experienced sickness, although my people were familiar with it,” Rux went on.
Straightening up inch by inch, the captain said, “It’s not sickness. It’s age. Did your people know of that?”
Maybe they didn’t, given Rux’s apparent fitness and vigor at the age of… What had he said? Two thousand years? Presuming, of course, that he was telling the truth.
“Ah. Yes, we knew age, in our primitive days. We developed technology that allowed us to avoid physical deterioration.”
“Extraordinary.”
Extraordinary that a member of such an advanced, once-mighty species would live in a cave with only finger paintings to keep him occupied, mused the captain. He kept the thought to himself. There would be time to poke holes in Rux’s story once he was back with the crew and his head didn’t ache.
“Captain Amirmoez, I’ve a thought. If you can’t walk, would you like to ride me?”
“I’ve told you, we’re not having sex until…” The captain trailed off as he became aware of the fact that his companion no longer stood next to him, having been replaced by a large, four-legged creature with six lidless eyes and a thick green pelt.
“That was not what I meant,” said the animal, in Rux’s voice. It sounded a trifle smug.
“Very funny,” muttered the captain, climbing onto his back.
✩✩✩
“Can’t believe you’re messing around with your science experiments at a time like this.”
“As I have explained at least three times now, I am trying to learn more about the local flora and fauna, so as to get a better idea of what might have taken the captain.”
“You’re looking at grass. Whatever did take him, it wasn’t the goddamn grass.”
“Mister Halberstam, you’re not a scientist. If you feel the need to be useful, why don’t you go do something you’re good at? Breaking rocks with your head, for example.”
Such was the discourse to which Echo had been an unwilling audience for the past half an hour. Zachery had volunteered to assist Antoine in his research—probably, Ec
ho thought, because he felt guilty for bullying Rick. Every single contribution he had made so far had been derisive; although Antoine wasn’t helping matters by addressing him the way an eighteenth-century French aristocrat would a disobedient footman. The fact was that if Antoine tended to bring out the captain’s inner Bligh, then Zachery tended to bring out Antoine’s inner Napoleon.
When Antoine made a sharp noise of surprise, Echo assumed it was because Zachery had finally lost his patience and punched him. He was surprised to turn around and find both of them leaning over one of the screens displaying the surrounding terrain.
“What the fuck is that green thing?” Zachery asked.
“Thomas!” shouted Antoine. “Get the guns.”
Chapter Seven
“A fine vessel,” said Rux as they approached The Prayer. “Not able to rival those marvels which my people constructed in our glorious Golden Age. Nonetheless, it will do.”
“I can’t wait to introduce you to Antoine,” the captain said to himself. “The energy created by your colliding egos might well tear a hole in the fabric of space-time and allow my crew to return home.”
His heart lurched at the sight of his first officer emerging from The Prayer, flanked by Thomas and Irene.
“Captain?” Antoine called through the fog. “Is that you?”
“Who else would it be?” he shouted back.
“Are you injured?”
“Yes, and hungry and tired. Why are you armed? If this is a mutiny, I should tell you that I’m not in the mood.”
“Captain, is the life form you’re riding hostile?”
The captain realized he’d completely forgotten about Rux.
“Has it taken you captive?” Antoine continued.
“No, you idiot. He’s a friend.” The captain gingerly eased himself off Rux’s back and listened to his men shout in surprise as the alien turned back into his humanoid form. He stood there naked and nonchalant as Antoine approached, lowering his weapon and looking from the alien to his captain.
Then Antoine growled and said in disgust, “I should have known, you ancient letch. Do you have any idea how much I…how much you’ve upset the crew? We were looking for you all night! Rick wanted to incinerate a mountain! I electrocuted Zachery, for Christ’s sake! And all this time you were busy getting acquainted with this planet’s one fuckable inhabitant?”
