For the Thrill of the Blunt

by Tom Sadira

  “Sounds tasty.” Charlie sucked down another lungful of smoke and blew it into the stars that hung in the high dome. “And, hey, I guess you didn’t hear me screaming for help a little while ago when the crew was chasing me and pulling a goddamn brain parasite out of my goddamn ear. Then they ate it. That’s all. No biggie.”

  Charlie felt a wet slap against his back. “You handled your first brain parasite well, yo!”

  “My first brain parasite? Wait one goddamn min—?”

  “Alright!” Zylvya stepped in the middle of the group and clapped her hands. “Now that the captain has finally recovered from his first—and last—trip to Lavaka, and he’s all caught up on The Mark, let’s talk about our next mission. Last night, I took the liberty of compiling a list of planets outside of Reptilian-controlled sub-space where we can perform a couple of exploratory runs. Charlie, I chose some easy rocks to help get you comfortable with—”

  “Captain.” Charlie said bluntly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You called me Charlie. I’m your captain.”

  “Okay, fine. Captain, it is.” She turned to the circular console. “Del, please pull up the list I sent you and project it for the crew. I think we should—”

  “Vos Praeda,” Charlie announced. “Our next mission is a hunting trip to snag a chocolate moose of Vos Praeda.”

  Four heads turned and stared at him. Axo’s jaw dropped, spilling a mouthful of drool.

  Swarm crossed both sets of arms. “No way, Captain.” His voice was grittier than usual. “Vos Praeda is off the table.”

  “Well, man, I’m like, putting it back on the table.” Charlie crossed his own arms.

  “Listen, Charlie—I mean, Captain.” Zylvya struggled to soften her voice. “I’m not sure where you heard about Vos Praeda, but I have a pretty good idea. We’re definitely not going there. Not only is it behind a well-protected Reptilian blockade, but its churn rating is very high. If you’re asking us to—”

  “I’m not asking you.” Charlie locked his bloodshot eyes onto hers. “I’m ordering you.”

  Axo stepped between them. “Naw, the food sucks on Vos Praeda! If good eatin’ is what you want, I know this little moon near—”

  “Are you kidding me? I haven’t had meat in ages, man. I can’t think of anything better than chocolate and meat. I want one. I need one. Del, set a course for Vos Praeda. I’m sure a ship as fast as the Starseed can make it through a Reptoid blockade, right?”

  “Uh, sure. Might take us a little time to find a good spot to zip through, but—”

  “How long?”

  “Maybe ten hours or so? But, uh, like everyone is trying to tell you, the odds of surviving a trip to Vos Praeda are slim. Without an experienced guide, I calculate that you’d survive for about…” he paused to tap his fingers across his screen. “52.6 seconds. Tops.”

  Nadia was right, again. These assholes don’t think I have what it takes to call the shots around here. It’s like they want me to fail.

  “Well, good thing I’ve already hired some experienced guides.” Charlie basked in the smugness of the moment.

  The crew exchanged bewildered looks. Finally, Swarm asked, “Who?”

  “These tall, blueish cat dudes I met in The Ring,” Charlie sipped smoke from his joint. “I dunno, they had weird alien names that I can’t remember. Said they’d been to Vos Praeda before, and seemed eager to help. So I hired them. Because I’m the captain. Any questions? Good. Let’s meet in the Transit Bay in twelve hours.”

  “Tall blueish cat dudes?” Axolotl asked.

  Swarm’s antennae bolted upright.

  Del’s hands stopped.

  Zylvya squinted. “Felonians.”

  5

  Bah-DUMP…Bah-DUMP…Bah-DUMP.

  Charlie’s heart did its best to pound a hole through his chest. His lungs burned. His calves spasmed. His shoulders ached. Despite the growing discomfort, he towed his Radio Flyer wagon full of gear towards the faint white light of the Starseed’s Augmented Instinctual Guidance system.

  Goddamnit. Yesterday, the goddamn Transit Bay was way goddamn closer to my goddamn room.

  He knew it was probably true, too. The ship was alive, and the complex system of corridors that connected its millions of chambers, also known as The Circuit, was constantly shifting and moving to suit the needs of the Seeders. As he huffed and puffed through another crowded hub, it became crystal clear that the captain’s needs didn’t outweigh those of the other 500 billion organisms.

  As he rushed around a corner, the wagon tilted slightly and sent an auto-inflatable raft toppling onto the green marble floor. He stuffed it back inside the mound of gear, then quickly took inventory to make sure he hadn’t lost anything else.

  Five-person pop-up tent with built-in LED lighting. Check.

  Collapsible camping cot with memory foam pad. Check.

  Triple-insulated, goose-feather sleeping bag. Check.

  Solar-powered, portable HD mini-DVD player with all six seasons of Extreme Survival Challenge. Check.

  A waterproof case containing a dozen perfectly-rolled blunts filled with the most potent, most smooth, most flavorful cannabis to ever be cultivated on Earth—and probably the whole galaxy. A future Cannabis Cup gold medalist. His one and only magnum dopus: Golden Ticket.

  Check.

  Don’t mind if I do, he thought, pilfering one of the blunts and popping it between his lips. Lighting the thing with his mind—by simply thinking of the ignition word, thus triggering the chemical shift in the paper and producing a small flame—got easier each time he did it. He slid the case into the pocket of his camouflage cargo pants, mumbled the ignition word he’d programmed into the blunt to ignite its tip, and puffed vigorously to get its ember burning evenly. Slouching in a swirl of thick white smoke, he pretended to check the rest of his gear.

  After printing a second copy of his twice-shattered bong, Big Willie—which was once again indistinguishable from the original he’d owned in college—he realized the Starseed could instantly produce any gear he needed for his trip. Money, or his lack thereof, was no longer something he had to worry about.

  With bloodshot eyes and Bob Marley’s discography blaring, Charlie had spent the past few hours on the Outernet pouring over camping gear. Tents. Sleeping bags. Flashlights. Camping stoves. Instead of settling for the cheapest items, he selected the very best of everything. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of guilty giddiness every time he clicked ‘Print’ and a brand new item would morph out of the green marble floor.

  Try to beat that delivery time, Amazon!

  All the gear printed perfectly—with just a few exceptions.

  Every time he tried to make a pocket knife or hatchet, a bladeless handle would appear.

  He found the Starseed could produce fishing gear just fine, yet every hook would print in the shape of a heart without any sharp or jagged points.

  Rifles were out of the question, since he knew he’d be more likely to shoot himself than any prey, so instead he tried to print various bow and arrow sets. Of course, he didn’t have the faintest idea how to use those, either, but figured he could learn to fire one without killing himself. Each time he tried, the bow and string would print correctly—but every arrow ended up being made of a flimsy foam material instead of carbon or wood.

  He split his gear between a large rainproof backpack and the Radio Flyer red wagon. Beyond the essentials, he’d packed a gold-plated compass, two stainless steel canteens, biodegradable toilet paper, a fire starting kit, a pack of water cleaning tablets, and two dozen other items he never thought he’d be able to afford. He climbed into some camouflage pants, threw on a camouflage raincoat over his camouflage sweatshirt, and laced up his brand new steel-toed leather hiking boots.

  Before he left his quarters, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was one badass apex predator. After a few minutes of flexing at himself, he set off toward the Transit Bay to meet the others.

  All attempts at
asking Mother how close he was to his destination were answered with obscure assurances that he was almost there. He felt like a kid driving with his parents, continuously asking, “Are we there, yet?”

  After sidestepping a trio of babbling tentacle creatures and rounding yet another corner, the faint white light leading him through the corridors became noticeably brighter. He sighed, puffed lightly on his blunt, and trotted like a pack mule toward the light at the end of the tunnel.

  Finally, the wide open doors of the Transit Bay loomed in front of him. Inside, he saw a docking bay so large that its distant walls were blurry and indistinct. Gigantic holes opened and closed along the ceiling, allowing ships to come and go. Vessels of every size, shape, and color were arranged on either side of a long central pathway. Blocky, battle-scarred ships bore dense metal hulls and sooty turrets. Smooth, teardrop-shaped mercurial ships reflected their surroundings so perfectly they almost seemed not to be there at all. Glowing ships pulsed and hummed as if made of pure energy rather than matter.

  While some creatures unloaded themselves and their cargo from the vessels, others seemed to be preparing to blast up and out of the bay. Charlie passed by a pair of hairy beasts dressed in denim overalls unloading a crate. Backing up, their crate bumped into a delicate glass disc that was being loaded into an adjacent crystalline vessel. The spindly, translucent creatures carrying the glass disc erupted in a shrill cry of protest. The hairy beasts dropped their crate and started beating their chests. The hooting and howling and whining grew louder as the factions faced off between their ships, neither side backing down.

  Charlie felt a whoosh of air against his afro as a blur of white feathers flashed overhead. Vargoni, the Starseed’s Chief of Transit, landed between the groups with outstretched wings.

  “Calm down, everyone!” The towering bird swiveled his head back and forth and snapped his beak in the air. “It was a mistake! Just a mistake! No harm, no foul! Move along with your business. Move along!”

  Charlie crept past the commotion. As he towed his wagon around the argument, something hard poked his ribcage. A sweet, floral scent betrayed the identity of his attacker before her voice had a chance to.

  “You’re dead, Captain.”

  Charlie rose his arms in feigned surrender. Zylvya grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.

  “For the record,” she said as she pinned him to the spot with her emerald eyes, “you’re being incredibly stupid. Vastly more stupid than I could’ve predicted. So stupid that I’ve begun to question my own intelligence for not spacing your ass the second you stepped foot on the Bridge.”

  “So you’re saying you value my ass? Wow, man. I have to say, since we’re opening up to each other, I feel the same way about your—”

  She shoved him hard. The green fire in her eyes flared.

  “This isn’t the time for jokes, Charlie! The only planet you’ve ever known is Earth, which is a kitten factory compared to Vos Praeda. Del wasn’t kidding when he said your chances of surviving this trip are very small. Tiny. Infinitesimal. Just like the size of your—”

  “Hey! What do you know about the size of my—”

  “Brain. I was going to say brain. You thought…? Ugh. No. Although, now that I think about it, after seeing the way you let Nadia wrap her coils around you, I’m not sure there’s much of a difference between the two organs.”

  Charlie puffed out his chest. “This isn’t about Nadia. This is about you and the crew not trusting my abilities as captain.”

  “What abilities?” She puffed out her own chest. Charlie was barely able to keep eye contact. “You’re always stoned. You’ve spent more time alone in your quarters than on the Bridge. You have no respect for the rules, which, must I remind you, nearly destroyed the ship and killed 500 billion Seeders. Oh, and let’s not forget that YOU BLEW UP MY LAB.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. You’re the one who wanted to test my weed, remember? If you hadn’t—”

  “Charlie, how do you expect to survive on one of the most dangerous planets in the galaxy when you can’t seem to manage your zipper…” She turned away and took a series of deep breaths. He glanced down at his crotch.

  Dammit, Charlie.

  He zipped up his fly, furrowed his brow, and took a massive hit from his blunt. As soon as she turned around to continue berating him, he exhaled a stream of thick white smoke directly into her face.

  “Enough!” She waved a hand to disperse the cloud, then recaptured him with her eyes. “Listen. Please. You might not see it, but this is about Nadia. She has something up her sleeve. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I can tell you from experience—she’s setting you up. She’s toying with you. She’s deceiving you.”

  “From what I can tell, Mother’s the one who’s been lying to me.”

  Zylvya let out a tortured groan and thrust a long, wooden staff into his chest. “Take this, you moron.”

  “Thanks, I think. Wait, where’s your gear?”

  “I’m not leaving the Starseed. Not when I know that sneaky, snaky bitch is up to something. No, I’m staying here to keep an eye on her.”

  “And the others?”

  “Del’s staying, too. He’ll monitor your Chatters, keep an eye on you from here, and offer any support he can. Swarm and Axolotl have already boarded the transit pod. Bugbrain has felt it necessary to keep a close eye on your so-called hunting guides, and I agree.”

  She took his hand and placed it around the staff. It was about two inches in diameter and stood a foot taller than Charlie. Its surface was finely polished and stained a light olive color. The mid-section of the staff was wrapped in leather and secured to the wood by a series of small brass rivets.

  “Wow, thanks, Zee. Normally I’d just scrounge up a walking stick somewhere along the way, but this is, uh, really nice.”

  “Shut up and listen for five seconds!” She stole the blunt from his lips, took a quick puff, and lowered her voice. “I made it especially for this trip. It’s got some survival features that should come in handy down there. Each of those rivets is a button, see? If you—”

  “Over here, Captain!”

  They both looked up. A blue and white head towered above the crowd. An eyepatch covered one eye while the other, catlike and yellow and sharp, was locked onto their position.

  “Shit.” Zee pulled him into her arms and slid her cheek beside his. “That’s Helwyr, leader of the Felonian pride. He’s a total hothead, and if not for Mother’s insistence on offering brutes like him a second chance, he and his crew would’ve been spaced years ago. Don’t let him out of your sight. More importantly, stick close to Swarm and Axo. And whatever you do, keep the staff a secret. As far as they’re concerned, it’s just a normal walking stick.” She pulled away. His face was one big, dopish grin. “Charlie, did you get any of that?”

  “Uh, yeah… I’ll be extra careful. No problem. Thanks.” He leaned in to embrace her again, but was shoved backward by a firm hand.

  She sighed, took a long drag from the blunt, and looked the camouflaged stoner up and down. “You can thank me when you make it back here alive. Now go, get out of here. Get some damn meat and get back to the ship as fast as you can. I’ll be in touch if you need me.”

  “You’ll be in touch?” He flicked his eyes open and caught a glimpse of her orange toga disappearing in the crowd, his blunt smoking from her slender hand.

  “Yo, Captain!” he heard Axo shout from the direction of the big cat dude. “You coming?”

  Stoned and smitten, Charlie made his way to the transit pod with his wagon in tow. Along the way, he examined the staff more closely. It seemed incredibly light for its size. He ran a finger over one of the many rivets that bound the leather midsection to the shaft. Was there some kind of symbol engraved on it? He held it close and squinted, and a whiff of acacia hit him square in the nostrils. Suddenly, all he could picture was Zee’s long green braid bouncing upon her supple cheeks. Her breath on his neck as she whispered her warnings in his ear. The way h
er curves felt when she’d embraced him. His mind reeled. Did he have a real chance with her?

  With his eyes fixated on the staff and his mind occupied with what lie beneath that skimpy orange toga, he didn’t notice the wall of blue and white fur until he slammed into it.

  “Sorry!” Charlie cried, peeling his face off the fur-lined concrete wall.

  “My mistake, Captain Hong,” a voice said from above. “I’m deeply sorry to have caused this collision.”

  Charlie looked up. Past the furry, muscular chest bloomed a thick mane of bluish white hair. In the center of the hair was a feline face consisting of a row of fangs, long white whiskers, a flat gray nose, and a black eyepatch.

  “No problem, man,” Charlie said as he backed away.

  “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Helwyr. These are my apprentices.” The towering feline swung a thick padded paw to the quartet of slightly smaller feline humanoids standing beside him. Their furry, cordlike muscles bulged as they sniffed in Charlie’s direction. “We’re honored to join you on your trip to Vos Praeda, and we look forward to making this a safe, successful hunt for you and your crew.”

  “Yeah, that sounds great, man. I hear you’re one of the best hunters on the Starseed. I’m lucky that you agreed to help us out.”

  The shortest of the feline companions sprang forward and snarled. “He’s the best hunter in the whole galaxy, ape!”

  “Silence!” Helwyr roared. “You will show respect to the captain of the Starseed! Consider this your only warning.”

  The short Felonian’s ears folded against his head and he slinked backwards.

  Helwyr turned back to Charlie. “Please forgive the little one. We’ve been on the Starseed for some time now, unable to give in to our predatory instinct, and he’s eager to begin the hunt.”

  “No problem at all, man. I’m eager to get me some of that chocolate moose meat! I hear it’s friggin'’ amazing. Right? Know what I mean?” Charlie nodded to the group of feline humanoids. They returned blank stares.