Last Night on Earth

by James Peters

  “Yeah, tell him he can do the same to himself.”

  “You can tell him that. Press your arm as I did and select his name. If both names are highlighted, you’re talking to both of us. If only one is outlined, you’re only talking to that individual.”

  “Ahoy, Slowhand. Are you there?”

  He sighed loudly. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “One of these days I’m going to teach you a lesson about rude gestures.”

  “Try it, and I’ll phase you into the wall.”

  “Can you phase a forty-five caliber slug of lead out of the air?”

  “Point taken. Now leave me alone unless you have something important to discuss.”

  “Bye,” I said, pressing his name on my arm, the color changed from green to gray. “Just testing,” she said.

  “I can hear you fine.”

  “Good. This tech is uncommon out here.”

  “By uncommon, can I assume it’s stolen?” I asked.

  Ginn didn’t answer my question, so I assumed the worst. “Just don’t show it off and you’ll be fine. Wait where you are. I’ll come back. to you.”

  I touched my arm where I’d been tattooed to see different words and pictures appear. This is some kind of magic!

  Ginn returned. She seemed to smile as she watched me messing with my arm. “Sarge has some new information on the engineering team. We’ve confirmed they are expecting two nebatians. That is both good and bad news for us. The bad news is only two of us can get inside. Good news is, nebatians are bipedal chlorine breathers, so they have to wear full EVA suits any time they are working in a migrun environment.”

  “And that means to me?”

  “Once you’re inside one of their suits, nobody will recognize you.”

  I cleared my throat. “I see. So, I’m on this engineering team. Who else?”

  “Rhuldan. We send you both in because you are the most qualified for the job.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How could that be possible? Me being most qualified for any job out here?”

  Ginn gave me a dismissive wave of her hand. “You can shovel waste, can’t you? Nine times out of ten, someone has flushed something they shouldn’t have into the waste collectors, and it’s jammed the filters. Your job is to drain the tank, shovel away whatever you find stuck in the grate, and pack it into a containment cell. While you’re doing that, Rhuldan will search the station to determine where they are keeping the ore.”

  “This sounds like a terrible job.”

  “That’s why we picked you. The vote was unanimous.”

  “I don’t recall voting.”

  “Only you, me, and Rhuldan can fit in a nebatian’s suit. I’m needed here in case something goes wrong, so the choice was clear.”

  I laughed. “Can I guess that something is to run away if we get caught?”

  “I’d call it a strategic retreat, but maybe you are smarter than you look, Idiom.” Ginn’s lip curled into a smile that bordered on sardonic and stopped at mocking. “When Rhuldan locates the element zero, he’ll let us all know where it is. Then you’ll need to create a distraction. We slip in, Jekto grabs our prize, and we sneak away.”

  I raised one palm into the air in a questioning fashion. “How am I supposed to create this distraction?”

  “That will be up to you. We don’t know where the ore will be stored, so I can’t tell you the best way to handle it. You’ll have to think on your feet.”

  “Fine. I’ll figure out something. Can I ask you something in the meantime?”

  “What is it?”

  I steeled my nerves, but my voice still squeaked a little when I asked, “I hope this isn’t too personal, but I have to know. How do you turn into that beast?”

  Ginn placed both hands on her hips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Indulge my curiosity. Besides, I’ll likely get killed down there, so what does it hurt?”

  Ginn’s face turned dour. “You could not pronounce my species name. It’s forty-seven syllables and required three sets of vocal cords to say it properly. In any case, we have two forms — our relaxed state, as you see me now, and our predator form. About once every four of your Earth weeks, a hunger grows within my stomach and my psyche. When this happens, I must hunt. I can fight the urge for a few days, but if I attempt to delay the transformation for too long, it can cause… issues.”

  I took a step back. “By issues do you mean you might attack your crewmates?”

  “That is a possible side effect.”

  I coughed quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You’re safe for the time being. Solondrex helps me find primitive worlds within our range for me to hunt on.”

  “Like Earth? We’re not that primitive.”

  Ginn laughed, shook her head, and made a tssk sound. “Earth is about a week past living in caves and fighting with sticks. In fact, some of your people still do those things.”

  “Believe what you want. One thing doesn’t add up though. When we met the first time, you attacked my horse, and you must have eaten him. I liked that horse, by the way.”

  “Sorry. If it helps, he gave me indigestion.”

  I frowned. “No, that doesn’t help at all. His name was Leroy, and I’d had him for three years.”

  “I didn’t know he was your pet. I thought he was wild, like a deer.”

  “He had a saddle on him and I was riding him! How could you think he was wild?”

  Ginn glanced toward her feet. “I got caught up in the moment.”

  “It’s over now. But how could you have still been hungry after eating a horse when those men were attacking us?”

  Ginn looked back at me. “I wasn’t hungry. I was angry.”

  “I see. So, you can change when angry as well? How about frustrated or annoyed?”

  “If I could change when annoyed, you’d be in real danger, Idiom.”

  I smiled, hoping she was joking. “I get the sense this isn’t common.”

  “It isn’t. My people have legends of our ancestors changing forms to rush into battle, but that ability disappeared centuries ago when we became civilized.”

  “Yet you were able to do it.”

  “And that is a secret you must keep. I’ve been thinking about the migrun and why they wanted Rhuldan.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think they were after him?”

  “Probably the same reason they wanted the element zero, to weaponize his abilities. If they knew I had control over my transformation, they’d want me too.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” My eyes grew heavy, so I made my way back to my bunk.

  In the haze of a dream, I recognized the cabin as my home from long ago, my mind content to ignore the inconsistencies and shifting elements as I moved through the place. A man I once looked up to, my father, Brian Dean Lee, sat in a wooden chair, leaning to his right as if he were about to fall to the floor. Now a broken man, thin and weak, content to sit in filthy clothes and stare out a window for hours on end. Dozens of bottles of laudanum littered the room. They had been dropped when emptied and left wherever they landed or rolled.

  I gathered up several and set them on the table, making more noise than needed. “Dad, you’re killing yourself with this stuff.”

  His eyes seemed to look through me. “Don’t you take my medicine, Idiom Justus Lee.”

  “I’m not taking your medicine, Dad. This bottle’s empty anyway.”

  “Because you stole it.”

  “I don’t want it. Don’t you understand?”

  “You’re just like your mother.” He shook a crooked finger at me. “You and her are working together, aren’t you?”

  “Dad, Mom’s been dead for ten years now. You just can’t remember anything ‘cause you’re in a drug haze all the time. Why do you need this stuff, anyway?”

  “You didn’t see what I saw. You haven’t experience the agony I did.” He looked down to where his right foot had once been. Now his p
ant leg was pinned together a few inches below his knee. “Unless you fought at the Battle of Little Blue River, you have no right to judge me.”

  “Dad, I was three years old at the time. You’d remember that if you didn’t drink this junk all the time.”

  Dad’s eyes cut me down. “What do you want, anyway?”

  “What do I want? I’ve told you several times now that I’m leaving for the Washington University School of Law in Missouri. I was hoping you wouldn’t kill yourself before I got there.”

  “You’re leaving me? After the sacrifices I’ve made for my country? Shows the respect your momma should’ve taught you while I was away.” His face turned into a scowl as evil as Scratch’s gaze. It seemed normal to me.

  “If I cared what you thought that might bother me. Enjoy your laudanum and staring out your window.”

  Dad’s face turned white as if he’d seen a ghost or was becoming one. “Wait!” He shuffled over to a cabinet, leaning heavily on a pair of wooden crutches. He rummaged through cluttered junk. “Here. Take this with you, Idiom.”

  “It’s a feather, Dad. Why do I need it?”

  “It’s a golden feather. As long as you have it, it means you’ll find your way back home.”

  “This sound like some of that heathen Indian garbage.”

  “Just take it.”

  “Fine. I’ll take your feather. Now I’m leaving. I’ll ask the Harrisons to check in on you.” I glanced over to a table to see my copy of a pocket Bible sitting under a kerosene lantern. I grabbed the book and placed it in my vest pocket. Someday, I’ll read this, I promise.

  “Just leave, Idiom. I’m not worth staying for, anyway.”

  “Goodbye, Dad.” I walked to the door, opening it to a powerful gust of wind. The feather flew from my hand over the cabin. As it fluttered through the air, it screamed a painful wail.

  I startled myself awake, took a deep breath and remembered where I was. A sense of isolation overcame me, so I opened the Bible and try to read it a little more. Upon opening it, the Western Union Telegram I’d kept all these years fell to the floor.

  I’d read it a hundred times at least, but I couldn’t stop myself from reading it once again:

  DE DENVER CO 5 32 PM MARCH 15 1892

  MR IDIOM LEE

  REGRET TO INFORM YOU OF THE PASSING OF BRIAN DEAN LEE

  PLEASE VISIT OFFICE AT 113 LARIMER ST TO SETTLE AFFAIRS

  REGARDSPHILIP MORGAN ATTY

  I should have gone when I had the chance. Sorry, Dad.

  Sarge interrupted my thought. “Private Lee, report to the Situation Room immediately.”

  “On my way.” I blinked a few times, gathered what few wits I had remaining, and followed his instructions, to find our “crew” waiting. Slowhand gave me a sly look as if they had all been there a long time. I shrugged, found a seat, and planted myself in it. “What’s the news?”

  Ginn made a hand gesture toward the table. An image of a cylinder with multiple tubes, connectors, and strange shapes attached to it. “This is the Gerrund station. Sarge intercepted a docking clearance request from the engineering team. If they follow standard protocols, they’ll refuel and resupply there before proceeding to the base. Sarge is calculating the Null Space Conduit to get us there.”

  “Null Space? You’ve used those words before. What do they mean?” I asked.

  Ginn sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s how we travel great distances.”

  “You’ll always remember your first passage through Null Space,” Slowhand said. “The terror often fades after a few years. Of course, some lower species aren’t able to survive the trip as it’s too much for their primitive brains to process.”

  “Next you’re going to tell me all about the snipe we’re hunting,” I said. “You’re not going to scare me.”

  “I’ll have Sarge record your screams. It will be fun to listen to them while we have snacks.” Slowhand’s lips curled into an evil smile.

  Ginn gave Slowhand a glance that I like to think meant “cut the chatter” but may have been more along the lines of “you’re scaring him.” “We’re ready, Sarge.”

  “Prepare for Null Space,” Sarge said. “In three, two, one…”

  If you’ve never traveled through Null Space, you won’t have a true knowledge of how disruptive it is. It started as a tingling sensation at my feet and hands, almost a tickle at first. Then it became painful as if I was being stretched on a medieval rack. The stretching continued until it seemed like my toes were miles away from my head, and everything I’d ever learned raced through my mind. I couldn’t see, but images flashed before me, the most memorable being the worst things I had experienced. Leroy being attacked, Ginn as a beast coming toward me, my father slowly killing himself with laudanum, watching my mother die of pneumonia while I held her hand. Fear and sadness. I tried not to scream, but I can’t swear I didn’t. Then with a sense of ultimate relief, all the pain ended. The absence of agony sent a wave of euphoria through my body as a release beyond words. When my vision returned, Ginn, Fayye, Slowhand, Rhuldan, and Jekto stood before me, and I felt a deep kinship with each of them as if we were now one big, happy family.

  “You cried like a little pup,” Slowhand said, attempting to spoil the moment.

  “I love you guys,” I said, sounding like a drunken miner spending his haul on whiskey, women, and song.

  “Great, he’s one of those,” Slowhand replied. “The feeling isn’t mutual, I can assure you.”

  “Don’t be a silly kitty. You know you love me.” I patted his head like he was a kitten. He bared his teeth, snapping at me.

  “Are you done?” Ginn asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “We’ll be docking in a few minutes. You and Rhuldan need to get aboard that ship. Your targets are located in bay K-79. We’ll be docking in bay W-113. We need to refuel and restock as well, and we have some items in our cargo hold we can sell if the going price is fair. Whoever locates the nebatian engineers needs to let others know their location. Otherwise, let’s keep the comms to a minimum. They are supposed to be secure, but lots of things aren’t what they should to be.”

  “Got it,” I said. Rhuldan and I returned to our individual quarters, and once again we donned our costumes covering our entire bodies.

  “Are you ready?” Rhuldan asked.

  “As ready as I can be. What’s your plan?”

  “I say we make our way toward their ship. We’ll scout it out, see what security they have in place, and if we can slip aboard without incident, we do so.”

  “Do you think we can be so lucky?”

  Rhuldan shook his head. “Not a chance. But it’s a starting place.”

  “What do you know about the nebatians?” I asked.

  “Not much. You know you can look them up in the galactic encyclopedia, right?”

  “What? How?”

  “The smart ink on your arm. Go to the search box, type in ‘nebatian’ and see what it tells you.”

  I did as he said. A message appeared on my arm saying, “Are you lonely on the Gerrund station? nebatian females await you!” An image appeared of something green, covered in slime, and moving rhythmically. “What is that?!” I showed my arm to Rhuldan.

  “Oh. I’ll show you later how to filter your results.”

  “Please do. That thing looked like a frog had a cold.”

  “Uh… Never mind, Idiom.” The ship shook. “We’ve docked. Follow me.” Rhuldan lead me into a room where hot air blew from the floor, and bright lights burned my eyes. When it stopped, he began walking again.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Decontamination. They don’t want you bringing any dangerous germs, parasites or spores on board. It’s standard procedure.”

  “I have a lot to learn about standard procedures.”

  “Now be quiet. Let’s find that ship.” He led the way up several ramps and around multiple turns. I wondered how he knew where he was going, but I kept my question to myself. I
watched feet of various designs pass by me, as well as a few aliens who didn’t bother with touching the floor to move about. At one juncture, what had to be a form of music played from a side room, but to my ears, it sounded as if someone were repeatedly punching a pig in the kidneys. Whatever this music was called, I didn’t care for it.

  Rhuldan stopped at what I now recognized as an airlock door. He tried the handle twice. “Why couldn’t they have left the door open?”

  A voice sounded from behind me, sounding strangely mechanical, wet and angry. “What are you doing?”

  I held my hands outward to show I wasn’t armed as I faced two creatures in fully sealed suits. Their faces were hidden behind reflective glass in their helmets. Nebatians, I was certain. They’d caught us trying to open the door to their docking bay.

  Rhuldan whispered, “How do you want to handle this?”

  “I have an idea.” I was surprised I did.

  The pair of engineers approached us, each with a hand over some form of pistol. I raised my hands slowly, glanced down. The slimy frog image still rested on my arm. Without saying a word, I raised my arm up toward the two Nebatians, displaying it to them. Then I pointed to the airlock door.

  The closest nebatian made a loud, gurgling “Whoa!” sound before stepping past me. He opened the door. We followed them inside and waited for the door to close behind us.

  “On three,” I whispered to Rhuldan. “One… two… three.” We both attacked at the same moment. I grabbed the nearest engineer by the arm, and spun him around, smacking him into the door frame. He fell flat on the floor, unmoving. By the time I turned to see Rhuldan, he had his Nebatian by the shoulder, and with a quick spin, the creature’s helmet flew off. I smelled a strong odor of chlorine as the alien fell to his knees and gasped for breath, his mouth open wide like a green donut surrounded by quills.

  “Let’s drag them to their ship. They’re bound to have backup suits.” Rhuldan pulled his guy by the ankle to a ship smaller than Sarge and sleeker in design, looking more like a flowing piece of polished art than a manufactured vehicle. I followed, dragging my own unconscious fellow. Rhuldan found a breathing mask mounted inside the ship and strapped it to the grotesque face before him.