Flux Runners

by William Joseph Roberts

  “You’re cleaning that suit this time if you upchuck in it.”

  “Yeah yeah,” Fergus said. “Bla bla bla. You know, you’re as bad as my wife sometimes.”

  “Um...Dear. I can still hear you,” Rachel interrupted.

  “Oh...um... Love you, Hon.”

  “Uh hu.”

  “Are you sure that you want to try this?” Trae pointed to an overhead hoist assembly. “I’ve got the harpoon working again. It wouldn’t be anything to set up and fire. And the magnetic grappler should do the job as long as there’s some sort of iron alloy in that thing.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, man? Hell yeah, I’m sure. I am going to be the first person to free fall from orbit and capture an alien satellite with my bare hands. I am going to get my name into the freaking record books, biaaatch!”

  Trae laughed with a moan. “God love you, Ferg, cause no one else will. Alright then, it’s your funeral, brother.” Trae walked over to a storage locker and retrieved a large fire extinguisher. “Are you sure that you’re ready for this? Last chance to back out, man.”

  Fergus leaned over peering through the opening and sighed. “It may be as hot as a cajun country boil in hell and smell like a fermented locker room down there, but it’s still gorgeous from up here.” He swung his legs up and slid himself away from the edge of the cargo bay opening.

  “Hey dumb shit,” Rachel chimed in. “You do realize that if you die, I get to finally play war with your miniature collection?”

  Fergus turned and looked up toward the ceiling of the cargo bay. “What the fuck will I care? I’ll be dead.” He chuckled, then clipped the shackled end of the tow cable onto the harness point of his suit.

  “Here ya go Ferg.” Trae handed him the overly large fire extinguisher. “Safe journey Brother.” Trae punched him in the shoulder then made his way to the catwalk ladder.

  “Awww. You better be careful with that shit. You might make me think that you actually care.” Fergus stepped back to the edge of the open cargo bay and stared at the dusty planet far below.

  Trae pulled a lever on the control panel for the overhead crane. “Clutch is disengaged, Ferg. Cheezy, go ahead and shut down the gravity plating.”

  The minute vibrations and background hum of the ship’s gravity generator suddenly ceased.

  “Oh wow,” Rachel gasped.

  Fergus looked up at Trae on the upper catwalk and shrugged his shoulders. “What?”

  “The ship is eerily quiet without the Grav generators running.”

  “That’s it? You’ll get over that shit soon enough,” Fergus said.

  “Be careful space marine. Something from the deep dark may grab you and drag you out to deep dark space where it will slowly digest you over a thousand million years,” Rachel said then moaned a sound similar to a cross of a tormented spirit mingled with the cry of a young bull moose at the start of mating season.

  “That’s it?” Fergus turned on his spot and looked upward at the ceiling in the direction of the bridge. “I’m about to make the record books and all I get is your moose in heat moan?”

  “May...be.”

  “That’s pretty damned disappointing,” Fergus said as he knelt down at the edge of the portal. “Screw it, I’m out.” He gripped the edge of the opening and let himself fall through the open portal. He clung to the edge of the outer door and dangled beneath the ship. “Hey y’all, look! I’m a dingleberry.”

  “We already knew that,” Rachel said.

  Fergus gurgled a wet burp. “Oh, blegh.” He smacked his lips. “That tastes so damn nasty.”

  “You alright out there, buddy?”

  “Yeah.” Fergus swallowed hard. “Just enjoying the...hic...” Fergus forced the root beer froth back down his throat with a loud gulp. A small globule of foamy brown liquid drifted aimlessly across his view. “Well, that’s probably not good.”

  “What’s not good? Hey, shit stain,” Rachel said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Dammit Ferg, hold it in like a man,” Trae said.

  Fergus sucked in a deep gasping breath.

  “What the hell are you doing out there? All I can see is the top of your head around the edge of the opening.”

  He sucked in deeply once more and slurped in the floating brown globule. The bubbly brown liquid slammed into the back of his throat and cause him to violently cough. “Nothing, man,” he said hoarsely. “Just breathing in the awesomeness of powerfully emotional moment.”

  “Uh hu, right,” Trae said suspiciously. “Just go ahead and push off when you’re ready. Remember, toss the extinguisher just before you get to the satellite and grab onto it like it’s a greased pig.”

  Fergus snorted a laugh. “Soo-Ee!” He pulled himself around from where he dangled. Planting his feet on the outer hull he stood upright on the underbelly of the ship, fists on his hips. “In the name of all humanity, I declare myself the king of all that my eyes gaze upon!”

  “Really?” Rachel laughed. “Quit stalling like a little chicken shit and jump already. I have hundreds of mint condition packages to go start opening.”

  Fergus tucked the fire extinguisher under his arm and crouched down. He disengaged the magnetic boots of his suit and kicked off from the belly of the ship. “Off we go, into the pitch-black vacuum! Soaring high, over the sky,” he sang horribly off-key to an old military anthem. He squeezed the trigger of the extinguisher and blasted forward, off course. “Whoa, Nelly!”

  “Let go of the trigger, you moron,” Trae said. “Short bursts! You know better than that.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Bite me.”

  “Don’t tell him that, dear. He may take you up on the offer.”

  Fergus aimed the extinguisher nozzle to his left and tapped the trigger. “I think I got it. Looks like I’m back on course.”

  “Good,” Trae said, releasing the breath he was holding. “Stay on course and you’ll be there in no time.”

  “So, do you think Cap will let us call dibs on some of the salvage once we figure out all of the tech issues?”

  “I have no idea, Ferg,” Trae said. “It would be pretty sweet though. Especially if those abandoned ships actually have energy weapons on board. That would so be worth hours of busted knuckles to get them operational again. Steady man, you’re getting close.”

  “I got eyes ya know,” Fergus said.

  “You’re coming in a bit hot, don’t you think? You might want to put on the brakes,” Trae shouted.

  Fergus swung the extinguisher from under his arm in a graceful overhead arc that continued to carry its momentum and Fergus in a backward somersault. “Um, well that’s not good. Oh God, not good.” The sound of muffled dry heaves permeated the comm signal.

  “Almost there, Ferg. Hold it together buddy. You got this.”

  “What the hell are you two knuckleheads doing down there?”

  “Um...Hey hun,” Fergus said.

  “Yeah, What?”

  “My Magna XL tank is off-limits. Keep it in the package. Do...Not...Open it!”

  “Wait, what?” Rachel shouted over the comms. “Fergus, you get your ass onto that piece of space junk and back on this ship before I kill you myself.”

  Fergus tapped the trigger of the extinguisher to slow his rotation. “Oh shit, this is gonna hurt.” Plastic crunched and crumpled as he smacked hard enough into the satellite to be heard over the radio.

  “Fergus,” Rachel shouted. “Fergus! Dammit man. Trae, what’s happening?”

  “Well, he’s on the satellite at least,” Trae said.

  “Uuug,” Ferus groaned.

  “Hey, Ferg. You alright buddy?”

  “No. I’m dead. Asshole. But I think I tinkled a little in my suit.”

  “Dammit man,” Rachel said sobbing. “I’m gonna break your neck when you get back here! Don’t ever do that to me again!”

  “Love you too hun,” Fergus gasped. “You did you get a video, didn’t you?”

  “Yup,” Trae laughed. “And still reco
rding. From start to finish including that fancy pinwheel maneuver thingy you pulled off and the horrible ass landing.”

  Fergus grunted in obvious pain. “It may have been horrible, but I did it, bitches! Woo, ouch. Note to self, ribs may be cracked.”

  “Yes, you did. You are such a good boy, yes you are. You’re such a good little Fergie,” Trae said.

  Fergus shook his leg and leaned to the left as if he were a dog being scratched behind the ear. “Oh yeah, right there, baby.” He chuckled, then reached behind his back and detached the cable from his belt. He looped it through what looked like a mounting or lifting point on the satellite structure and clipped the end back to the cable. “That should do the trick. Alright, reel me in big daddy.”

  Trae engaged the clutch mechanism, slowly drawing in the cable slack. “Hold on to something Ferg. It’s going to jerk pretty hard.”

  “Spider monkey mode engaged! Become the monkey. Embrace the monkey. I am a spider monkey,” Fergus sang in a sing-song tone. The cable drew tight and the satellite bucked. Fergus slid backward across its bronzed surface, catching the edge of a panel with two fingers. “Whoa, shit Trae! Hold up!”

  Rachel keyed the comms, “Let the asshole fall.”

  “Bitch!”

  “Ass!”

  “Now children,” Trae said.

  Fergus scooched his way up the side of the satellite and straddled it like a rodeo cowboy on a bucking bronco. “Alright, Trae, I’m ready. Let’s try it again.”

  “Alright then, here we go.” Trae reengaged the clutch. The cable drew tight once again and jerked the satellite toward the ship.

  “Oh yeah, baby! I got it this time! Yee Haw!” Fergus threw a hand over his head like a cowboy out of the gate. “Holy mother Mary and the saints of whiskey. Rachel, check the sensors. There was just this massive flash of light. Umm...Shit. From my point of view, it was around the ship’s ten o’clock at maybe eleven-thirty high. I just caught a glimpse of it over the edge of the hull.”

  “Okay, hang on,” Rachel said.

  “Hey Ferg,” Trae said in a questioning tone. “What kind of flash? Did it look like an explosion?”

  “Naw man. It was just this big white flash. It built up, got really bright, then winked out. It was bright enough out here that I had to squint, and the visor on this helmet is tinted.”

  “Holy shit guys,” Rachel shouted. “Contact! We have contact! Bogey bearing three two three-point four by seven two six upspin of the ecliptic and it’s freaking massive.”

  “Shit, shit, shit! Trae, dude,” Fergus said. “Can’t you make that winch go any faster?”

  “Not if I want to keep it from crashing into the ship,” Trae said.

  “What’s it doing hon? Shit, um...Shut down the radar? Go to passive sensors only so we don’t ping them. See if you can get a visual on them. Whooo! We got ourselves a real live alien ship!” Fergus exploded in nervous laughter. “I sure hope they aren’t the kind of aliens that probe on the first date.

  “Shut up you freaking spaz, I got it under control,” Rachel said. “All systems running silent.”

  “Watch your head, Ferg,” Trae said. “Hurry up and crawl around unless you want to be scraped off the side of that thing like a bug on a windshield. You're drifting too close to the edge of the bay and there’s nothing I can do to steer it.”

  “Aw crap, low bridge.” Fergus scuttled around the circumference of the satellite. “What are they doing now hon?”

  “Picking their butts and sniffing it,” she said. What the hell do you think they are doing, you freaking spaz.”

  “Oh, ha ha ha. Seriously, what are they doing?”

  “Whoa,” Rachel gasped.

  “Whoa? What whoa,” Trae repeated. “That kind of whoa isn’t normally a good thing.”

  “Just got a visual,” She said. “It isn’t the greatest because they are way out there right now. Like, upspin of the ecliptic and near the inside edge of the asteroid field. Approximately fourteen million klicks distance. Whoa!”

  “Whoa what,” Trae asked. “We really need to work on your vocabulary Cheezy. Define this whoa.”

  “Another whoa is never a good sign,” Fergus added.

  “I agree, it isn’t,” Trae added.

  “They are transmitting on multiple frequencies across the band,” she said. “I think they are scanning the system. Hurry up guys, let’s get out of here and back to base camp before they spot us.”

  “Hang on Ferg,” Trae disengaged the winch and removed a long pole that was attached to the catwalk handrail. “Doors closing.” Trae pressed a button on the control panel. Fergus and the satellite continued to drift upward at a slow snail-like pace. “Ready?”

  “Yup, ready,” Fergus said.

  Trae locked a leg through the handrails and pushed against the hull of the ancient device.

  “I thought you said you’d never touch me with a ten-foot pole,” Fergus said with a chuckle.

  “For your information, this pole is twenty feet and I’m still not gonna touch you.”

  “Well, why the hell not?”

  “Just no man, and I’ll leave it at that.”

  “Awww.” Fergus sniffed and whimpered. “Oh hey, almost there.” He pulled himself along to the lower edge of the satellite and pushed off toward the deck. He landed on all fours gripping the grating. “Okay, come on down like another foot or two on the front.”

  Trae pushed the massive satellite with the thin metal pole. It drifted downward and contacted the now closed cargo bay doors.

  “Alright, hon, turn the grav plating back on and get us out of here. We’ll get it strapped down. The space turd has landed!”

  Unknown Red Giant System

  2nd planet / Alien Starport

  The Betty / Workshop

  July 2nd, 2176 / Afternoonish (Betty Time)

  L izz dipped her finger into the metal cup and swirled it about in the contents. She made a show of pouring the water into a clear glass for the cat creature. “Water,” she said pointing to the liquid in the glass. “We call it water. What do you call it, Casraownan?”

  Momentarily perplexed, Casraownan looked to Lizz, then to the glass of water. He smiled wide, in an expression of understanding. “Wa...Waterrr.” He proudly nodded.

  “But what do you call it?” Lizz pointed to the cat creature. He inhaled with a gasp of surprised joy and replied, “utss,” followed by a barely audible purr. He then dipped his fur-covered finger into the glass and flicked droplets at Lizz. He propped his chin against his fist and leered at her with a mischievous smile.

  “Hey Casanova,” Wes said, interrupting. “Water,” Wes held up his left hand, palm up. “utss,” he said as he held up his right palm.

  Casraownan blinked rapidly then nodded in understanding. “Waterrr, tiim utss,” he said with a nod.

  Wes entered the word into the translator database. “Alright, what’s next?”

  Lizz looked around the compartment. “I’m not sure what else to show him. What else on this ship would have a counterpart in his primitive, subterranean world?”

  “Well, how about colors or numbers,” Wes suggested.

  “No.” Lizz looked at Casroawnan in contemplation. “We can get colors and numbers at any time. What we need is to quickly get a large chunk of vocabulary in order to make some real progress. What is it that you bloody Americans say? A crash course cram session?”

  “Okay...So how do you suggest that we go about it?

  Lizz snapped her fingers and smiled. “We need to let him teach us. If we can get him to teach us his world, then we’ll have a baseline that we can work with.”

  “And how do you suggest that we do that? We have body parts and water so far. Do you think he’ll really take us to his home?”

  Lizz turned to Wes, excitement beamed across her face. “That’s bloody brilliant, Wesley.” She stepped over to Wes and excitedly kissed him on the top of his head. “Pack your bags Geek. We’re taking this show on the road!”

&n
bsp; cHAPTER 23

  Chinchassan burrow

  “W

  e should send someone to look for Casraownan,” Mapharye said, pleading to Lilhanya. “If what Joquon says is true, Casraownan may need our help.”

  Ceiwo crossed his arms and hissed. “There are no such beings and we must maintain ourselves. Just because Casraownan has run away to sulk somewhere in the Labyrinth, does not mean that we should send anyone to search for him!”

  Lilhanya hissed. “Ceiwo, calm down. If there is a chance that Casraownan is in actual trouble, then shouldn’t we send someone to find out?”

  “He was captured by the tailless creatures,” Jouqon said, pleading to the others. “I saw them with my own eyes!”

  “Silence child!” Gabhothi hissed. He leaned closer to the young Chinchassan. “Know your place, youngling. Our decision is final.” He scowled at the child.

  Jouqon straightened and squared himself off with Gabhothi. “I will not be silent. Casraownan is my father and I will see to his rescue myself if I must,” the youngling said with a defiant growl.

  “Jouqon!” Mapharye jerked him away from the clan elder.

  Lihanya stifled a giggle. “Casraownan is most definitely your father, youngling. You have his fire in your heart.”

  “Jouqon is right, you know,” Minyetyuh quietly added.

  Gabhothi let out a low, throaty growl. His dark gray fur bristled with rage. “Silence you petulant girl!” He glared at the black-furred female.

  “You should know by now that that will never happen, Father,” Minyetyuh said then smiled at the elder Chinchassan.

  “Nor I,” Tesya, a young multi-toned female declared as she walked over to stand beside her sister, Minyetyuh.

  “And what say you, Father,” Olne asked gruffly, directing her question to Ceiwo. She joined the growing throng of frustrated young females. Her gray tabby-like stripes bristled with anger. “Isn’t this something that we should all have a say in?”