by Matt Snee
“What do you mean, Mom?”
“I can't talk about that now, Lewis. I really can't. I don't have long and neither do you. This in itself is a gift to me. Please enjoy these last moments with me, my son.”
She wept.
Captain wrapped his arm around her and embraced her convulsing body. She seemed so frail now, only a wisp of her former self. Still, there was an incessant light in her eyes that was as bright and unquestionable as the Earth in the sky.
Athra wiped her eyes and nose and cleared her throat. “Well,” she murmured. “I have to go now…”
She pulled out of his arms and started walking back to the crowd of people, who were making their way toward the opposite side of the valley. Captain started after her, but she batted him away.
“Stay!” she commanded. “We'll see each other again, don't you worry.”
“I love you, Mom!” Captain shouted.
“I love you too,” she laughed back and continued walking until she joined the others as they made their way out of the valley.
Jennifer made her way back to him and touched his forearm. “You okay?”
Captain looked down at her, distracted by her beauty. “I…”
“C'mon,” she said. “We need to get out of here.” She gestured in the direction opposite where his mother had gone.
“Okay,” he said, sighing, resolved.
“It's not far now,” she said.
“What?”
“The door.”
“The door out?”
“Yes.”
“You know,” he began, “you don't have to be strong enough for the both of us. I can take care of myself. I'm just confused out of my goddamned mind.”
“I know. We need to stop, and we will soon. Once we get to the Devasthanam everything will be explained to you.”
“This is a promise?”
“It's a promise,” she confirmed. “We're halfway there now. It shouldn't take long.”
* * *
“My ship is on the Moon,” Jennifer explained as they walked through the last bit of forest. “Once we get there, we can go straight to the asteroid field, where the Devasthanam is.”
“Okay,” said Captain. He was beginning to feel better about everything. Seeing his mom, though it had been sad, had warmed his heart.
“My ship has a TV and everything,” Jennifer continued. “And I can make you something to eat. And you can rest.”
“That would be nice,” Captain told her.
They were silent after that until they finally came to the door, which was nothing more than a slip of light in the woods, almost invisible.
“This is it?” Captain asked.
“This is it.”
“And you just go through?”
“Well, you need this.” She pulled a silver key from her pocket.
“And that's how you trick death?”
“I admit I had some help,” she chuckled.
“From who?”
“You don't want to know.”
Captain nodded. She still wasn't telling him everything. Would that ever change?
She pulled the door open.
They went out.
7. Captured!
Like an undersea flame
love defies reason
whilst anchored hearts plunge
towards perilous Eden
Jennifer Pichon, “Poetry from My Travels”
They found themselves on the Moon again, clothes and skin untorn, as though they had only been sleeping. But there were the scraps of the box around them, and they knew the wolves had been here.
Captain was astonished by the moon: first by the simple fact (that he had not yet accepted) that he could breathe in space, and then by the beauty of the gray plains around him, the softness of the sand beneath him, and the sight of Earth in the background—huge. Captain stood slowly; gravity was lighter here, and he almost felt like he might spin off into space. Settling his feet into the ashen powder of the ground, he drew a deep breath and smiled. He was alive.
“C'mon,” Jennifer said as she stood too. “Let's not waste time. Follow me.”
“Alright,” he said, still confused out of his mind, but at the same time resolved to be where he was, ready for anything.
They bounded across the Moon. Captain laughed. It was like being on a trampoline. Jennifer giggled too; his enthusiasm was infectious. Together, they took long steps across the terrain, like manic children upon a mattress.
“Your ship isn't far?” Captain asked her.
“Nope,” she said. “Just down here.”
“How can you tell?”
“I can tell. I recognize this place.”
“It all looks the same to me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Well, it's not.”
“That's what they say about country music too,” Captain mused. He was not a fan.
She didn't know what he meant. “I know the position of the Moon and the stars above. I can tell where we are.”
“What kind of ship is it?”
“A Schaffler, Mark XIII.”
“What does that mean?”
She chuckled. “That means it's old.”
“But it still works?”
“I hope so!”
Captain let his mind drift. Space travel! He had only imagined. Now here he was, poised before a true interplanetary journey. If only his mother could see him…
They were silent for a while as they made their way across the Moon. Bounding across the terrain, which at first was truly novel, soon became commonplace and they travelled without comment. Finally, Jennifer pointed at the horizon. “Look! There it is!”
He peered at it—a gray obelisk among the gray terrain. It had wings and rockets, sitting upon the powder like a patient bird. It was a real spaceship; he couldn't believe it, and his skin went taut with anticipation. They were almost safe!
* * *
But then there was the strangest noise: a clanking, filthy, ratcheting of some sort. A hot purple light came down on them from above. Both of them found themselves frozen in place, unable to move, and a shrieking pain made its way up their bones.
“Ah!” Jennifer cried out in surprise.
“What is it? Are you okay?” Captain himself was stunned and frightened. He couldn't even move his head so he could look above them. The purple light twisted, and the grip upon them became tighter. It felt like they were being crushed by a giant hand.
“Urrrr…” Captain groaned. He had never felt anything so constrictive.
Something rumbled above them like a door opening, and then they were lifted into the air by the light, which was obviously a tractor beam. Now Jennifer knew what was happening. “It's a Venusian flesh raider!” she exclaimed. “We've been captured!”
“A what?”
“Slavers! From Venus!” She struggled as best she could, but there was no moving in the heavy light. “It was a trap!” Damn! She thought. How could I have been so stupid?
They were pulled up into the belly of the half-organic, half-mechanical ship, and—still controlled by the tractor beam—they were deposited in separate cages made of what looked like handcrafted shell. The doors to the cages slammed close, and then at last the light ceased, giving them control of their bodies again. But now they were imprisoned.
“No!” Jennifer shouted at their invisible captors, grabbing the bars of the cage and pulling at them with her hands. It can't end like this, she thought. This can't happen!
Venusians were known to prowl these parts of space, looking for humans escaped from Earth to sell at their exotic slave markets. Jennifer had been so concerned with the Shadows that she hadn't even considered this possibility—stupid, she realized now, as her mind calculated escape. The raider would certainly take them to Venus, if they were lucky, which was the opposite direction they needed to go in.
She caught her breath as she looked around. They were in a vast hold of cages, each containing some sort of exotic beast from the solar system:
Earthling sky rats, Martian Braconids, lunar void monkeys, Mercurian rock creatures, even a solar bat and an Oort fish. The vessel had clearly been collecting specimens for quite some time—a good sign that it was headed back to Venus soon. They probably caught it on its way back, stopping on the Moon just to see if there was any salvage to capture. The Venusians probably found Jennifer's ship empty and hid, waiting for its owner to return.
And now look at them: trapped in the belly of a flesh raider!
To her left Jennifer suddenly heard a clap of air and the sound of an orifice opening. The Venusians used biological technology that was more often alive than not, in concert with evolved Owl Tech. The ship, and most of its functions, were probably alive—if you could call it that—vat-grown composites controlled by pheromones, bursts of electrics, and stringent feeding. Footsteps echoed through the chamber as something entered, followed by the beating of wings.
“Jennifer!” It was Captain, in the cell next to her. “What's happening?”
“Shhh!” she said.
Two huge flesh golems came walking down the corridor, automatons constructed out of refitted biological filth and welded mollusks. There were like robots, but made out of artificial blood and muscle. Jennifer had never seen one before, but she had read about them in her father's books; slaves to the Venusians, designed for physical labor and inter-planetary interaction. They weren't quite mindless, but they weren't quite sentient either, controlled remotely by Venusian mind pods and skin radio.
The two hulks made their way to Captain's and Jennifer's cages. They were pink-colored, muscular, naked, but sexless, with a single green eye in the middle of their mouthless faces. They were fed by painting feeding goo across their skin, which absorbed the nutrients like a sieve.
But behind the golems hovered the Venusian: cognizant slime held in a clear vat suspended in the air by hummingbird-like wings. Venusians had no bodies, having devolved from their ancient mollusk-like forms into self-aware ooze that commanded other biological and mechanical entities with control infections. In the center of the vat was an attached mouth, not for eating, but only for speaking—a crafted muscle that now spoke.
“You, humans! You are now property! As per the Controlarchy's treaty with the illustrious Shadows of Earth, any living being found on the Moon without proper authorization is free game to be apprehended and sold as cattle.”
“Let us go!” cried Jennifer.
The Venusian voice laughed. “I don't think so. Your rights as sentients are now forfeit. A proper mating pair like you should fetch a high price in the slave markets of Zirroqua. And that's exactly what you'll do.”
The flesh golems and Venusian turned and left, going back through the orifice they came in through. At their exits all the beasts in the hold yelled and crowed in agony. Doom was in the air.
“What does that mean?” Captain asked Jennifer.
“It means we're going to Venus,” she answered, despair inked into her voice.
Now the impending reality of the No-Shape seemed far away, even as they headed toward it. Captured as they were, they were in deep trouble, bound for an unknown but certainly dangerous future.
“They'll probably keep us together,” Jennifer instructed Captain. “But in case we are separated, take this.” She handed him a thin bracelet from her bag. “This will let me track you.”
“Okay,” said Captain, afraid but also stoic.
“And one more thing,” Jennifer said. “Can I have my necklace back?”
Captain nodded and pulled the jewel from his neck, handing it back to her. She placed it back on, telling herself her mother would be quite displeased at the current turn of events.
But there had to be a way to escape, somehow, some way. The truth was like stone. They would never get out of these cages, and even if they did, what then? There were the flesh golems to deal with, and then who knows what else. Even if they did manage to wrest control from the Venusian flesh raider, they could never fly the ship, and even if they could get off the ship, where would they go? It was hopeless.
Our best chance is to wait, thought Jennifer, trying to be positive. The universe will offer a path. We must observe it, and grasp it when we can.
The truth was that if they were headed to Venus, the odds of them getting to the Devasthanam in time were slim. Humans weren't free on Venus, and they would stick out like sore thumbs even if they did escape. And then how would they get off the planet and back into space? There were ways. There ARE always ways, Jennifer thought. But still…
Her father had written extensively about Venus, having explored it in disguise before she was born. It was a foul, wretched jungle of moral-free trade and steaming violence, where life—as easily as it could be created and manipulated—was infernally cheap.
“What will they do to us?” Captain asked her.
“They will parade us in the slave market. And then they will sell us. From there, I don't know. Anybody could buy us. They might force us to…” she stopped. It was too terrible to think of.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she corrected herself. “They might drug us so that we are more pliable. If so, then we are really in trouble and we won't care what happens to us. But maybe that won't happen, maybe they will want to keep us pure.”
“What's Venus like?”
“It's one big, hot jungle, a planet-sized city …but not how you have cities. The Venusians live side by side with life. While Earthlings build around living things, Venusians build inside them, creating new organisms that they use as their technology. Genetic tampering, cross pollination, the complete sculpture of biological matter for their own benefit. They themselves are the product of engineering, beings of hand-crafted specifications. They don't breed. They are grown.”
“And humans are slaves there?”
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry,” Captain said.
“What are you sorry about?”
“That I couldn't help, that we're here.”
“Don't be sorry,” Jennifer told Captain, amazed by him despite their circumstances. “I should be sorry. I dragged you into this, and now there's no telling what they'll do to us.”
“But they won't kill us?”
“No. No, not unless we're sold to a Venusian who finds humans to be a delicacy …which is possible, I suppose.”
“We'll escape,” he said, seemingly sure of himself. “We'll escape, or we'll die trying,” he finished.
“That's the spirit,” Jennifer complained. She sighed, wondering if her handy laser gun could get her out of this one. She doubted it as she had realized before: even if they escaped the cages, how would they escape the ship? Where would they go? No, their best chance was to look for an out on Venus and then hope to find some kind of transport off planet. If they got out of the slave markets and made it to a shipping bazaar, then they might have a chance. She had currency; she could buy their way off Venus, if they met the right pilot.
But that was still farfetched. Once they landed, the Venusians would put them in chains and probably drug them. It's over, she thought. There's no escape.
The Gita spoke:
The truly wise dive deep into themselves, fearless, one-pointed… the mature man, fulfilled with wisdom, resolute, looks with equal detachment at a lump of dirt, a rock, or a piece of gold.
Her mind rearranged the text, hoping some truth or secret would come to her. But now the tome said nothing that she felt could help. Instead of wisdom, I need a grenade, she thought.
* * *
Captain wasn't as negative. Honestly, he was happy they weren't running anymore. He was tired and he missed his mother. But then a weight appeared on his shoulders, and a resolve devised itself in his heart. If we really are in trouble, he thought, it's up to me to get us out of it.
He took a quick glance at Jennifer, who seemed enthralled with her own despair. Who was she really? Could he trust her? He wasn't sure, but he realized that just as much as he depended on her, she depended on hi
m. He had to wake up and do something …if not now, then soon.
He looked up and down the hold at the other creatures held prisoner and a robust sadness grasped his heart. It reminded him of a sad zoo. Like himself, all these “animals” belonged somewhere else. It was a horrible injustice, and he knew that if he was going to get out of this alive, he would have to be stronger than he had ever been.
The bars of the cage looked impenetrable. Not to mention the fact that they were in an alien spaceship surrounded by obstacles. It seemed hopeless. The moment will come though, he thought. And when that moment comes, I will act.
Something started hissing and a new air flooded the zoo. Captain could feel it blowing out of the vent above him.
“No…” he heard Jennifer whisper. He turned and looked to her. She was pale. “Gas,” she said. “A drug.”
He sniffed the air. There was a pungent, acrid odor. Already, he felt lightheaded. Suddenly the situation didn't seem so bad. Maybe it would be alright. How bad could it be, life as a slave? And so what if they were eaten? Life was fraught with hellish moments anyway. He would be happy to die.
Captain flinched, realizing the drug was already affecting him. He felt consumed with the need to tell the truth. “I'm scared, but I'm not scared,” he told Jennifer.
“It's what they're giving us,” she said. “Some sort of manufactured serum that makes us listen to commands and hesitant to confront our captors. It will make us pliable and weak.”
“Will it knock us out?”
“No,” she answered. “I don't think so. But we'll do as we're told and we won't mind so much being captured. Eventually they could carve us up and we would be happy to be there.”
“Then we're in considerable danger,” Captain mused.
“Yes.”
“I wish I could help you,” he admitted. “I don't care about myself. But I care about you.”
Jennifer was surprised by his candor, even through the drug. “That's just the serum talking. You don't care about me.”
“I do,” he repeated. “There's something about you, I don't know. You make me feel… like myself again.”
She smiled, despite the situation. “There's something about you too. I could tell when I read your books. You're special, you…” She trailed off, observing herself.