by Tom Sadira
Helwyr, his ears back and lips curled, knocked the case out of Axolotl’s arms. Swarm’s antennae drooped behind him as he flexed all four arms. They stepped toward one another.
A stream of thick, white smoke erupted from below, hitting them each in the face. Scowling and coughing, they brushed the cloud aside and looked down.
Charlie—his head not even to their shoulders—slouched with a newly lit blunt between his teeth. He glanced up at Swarm and Helwyr, acknowledged how they’d redirected their malice at him, and then spewed another lungful directly at their scowls.
“Chill, guys! No one’s gonna fail, and no one’s gonna die. Why don’t we all sit down and share some of my magnum dopus? Perhaps you haven’t heard, but this strain, Golden Ticket, is one of the most potent strains in the galaxy. Have you seen Zee’s lab? This shit blew it up. Don’t tell her I said that. She’s got a fast right hook, man. And a fast left hook. And I’m pretty sure she can control plants with her mind. Oh, dude! I wish you guys could’ve seen the uppercut thing she did to take out that giant spider mite bitch in the THC Chamber. This huge spike—it looked like some kind of humongous thorn or something—it just shot out of the ground and—”
“Uh, Captain…” Axo waved a hand in front of Charlie’s bloodshot eyes. “They’re gone, yo.”
Charlie swiveled his head. Axo was right. They’d walked out on him mid-rant—without even taking a puff! At least when Zylvya stormed off during one of his stoned prattles she had the courtesy to run off with his joint.
Dicks.
He lifted his hand to his lips, but the blunt wasn’t there.
“Don’t mind if I do, Captain.” Axo grinned wide and took a long, slow hit. After exchanging a smile, they turned to face the purpling sunset.
Swarm, antennae twitching excitedly, arranged the repulsors in a wide circle. Each time he plunged one into the soil, the rod’s orb lit up and lent its red light to the aura forming around the campsite. Charlie was grateful they’d be able to sleep well knowing they wouldn’t be eaten by those demon harpies, those wolf centipedes, or any of the other fucked-up life forms out there.
Axo passed the blunt. Charlie took a long, slow hit of his own and heard Helwyr address his men.
“Night is nearly upon us. Why don’t the four of you head into the forest to chop some wood for tonight’s fire?” His voice was strangely calm. “Make sure you get a lot—it looks like it could be a cold night.”
7
Charlie woke to a roaring crackle. Orange light flickered against his eyelids. The air shifted, sending a sudden burst of warmth across his face.
Panicked and still half-asleep, he scrambled to his feet. Thirty feet away from where he’d just been sleeping raged the largest, angriest fire he’d ever seen. The wind shifted again, feeding the hungry flames and blasting him with another wave of heat and smoke. Shielding his eyes and holding his breath, he leapt away from the inferno. Within seconds, Axolotl and Swarm had woken and were at his side.
“Shit, dudes! We didn’t put out last night’s fire! I brought a few fire extinguishers. They’re in my…” Charlie trailed off as he scanned the empty clearing. “Hey guys, uh, where the hell’s the gear?”
Under all his layers of camo, Charlie had stayed pretty warm, so he hadn’t bothered unpacking his tent. Instead, after finishing the blunt with Axolotl and Swarm—who, after letting the security of the biorepulsors sink in, could no longer resist Charlie’s magnum dopus—he’d fallen asleep on top of his sleeping bag. He squinted toward the spot in the grass where the gear had been arranged. No sleeping bag. No blankets. No backpack.
“Get to the pod!” Axolotl yelled above the roar of the flames.
Muffled laughter snuck up behind them. In unison, Charlie and his crew spun around.
Four Felonians paced just inside the light of the bonfire, snarling and whipping their tails back and forth.
“Yeah, ape, go run to your pod!” One of them pointed a claw at the column of flames and smoke.
Squinting against the heat, Charlie peered into the inferno. The flames at the top of the fire lashed against something round and large.
“Oh shit, yo!” Axo cried. “The pod!”
“Pod, rise two hundred feet and move fifty yards north!” Swarm shouted.
The bottom half of the transit pod’s hull cracked and split. It didn’t move.
“Pod! Rise two hundred feet and—”
“It’s no use,” a voice shouted back. “I’ve disabled the verbal controls and the fire control system. The pod is gone.”
A smaller flame broke away from the inferno and approached the crew. Holding the torch was Helwyr—chest out, fangs exposed, firelight dancing in his one good eye.
“You fool!” Swarm rattled. “The volatile ionosphere of this planet makes it impossible for us to toke back to the Starseed! That pod was our only way back!”
Axo flung his soggy dreadlocks aside and tapped the Chatter—the green metal disc embossed with a silver marijuana leaf—that was pinned to his shoulder. “Del! We need another pod, fast!” When no one answered, he tapped again. “Del? Zee? Anyone there?”
He tapped again, then looked down. His turquoise cheeks turned pink. His Chatter—the one he’d used to call his mate before going to sleep, the one she’d pinned to his chest before he left and made him swear not to remove—was gone.
Helwyr paced back and forth between the crew and the fire. “Another transit pod will rescue us—once we’ve successfully completed the hunt.”
“You’re mad, fleabag!” Swarm charged, but Charlie and Axo held him back. “Charlie’s the captain! He gives the orders, not you!”
“If I were you, Lieutenant,” Helwyr said calmly, “I’d conserve my energy for the hunt. We’ve got a lot of distance to cover today, and I expect we’ll encounter some dangerous wildlife along the way. If you can’t keep up, I’m not sure I can guarantee your safety.”
“Wait!” Axo spun around, waving his arms. “Where’d you hide our gear, yo?”
“That worthless junk would have just slowed us down. Distracted us from our hunt. We’ve offered it up as a smoke sacrifice to Leonid, Felonian god of the hunt, and asked that he forgive us for allowing those wretched repulsors as long as we did.”
Charlie looked around the former campsite. The tents, the sleeping bags, the equipment—even his little red Radio Flyer wagon with the squeaky wheel—had vanished. He let go of Swarm and stepped forward.
“Swarm’s right! This is bullshit, man! We’re going back to the Starseed! This hunt is canceled!”
Helwyr stopped pacing. He spat, bowed his head, and closed his good eye. “The hunt, Captain Hong, has only just begun.”
“You just said it yourself, dude, I’m the captain! I order you to release the pod! Or give us a Chatter so we can call for another!”
“Per galactic law, your authority extends only to your vessels and your crew. No vessel—” He nodded to the huge flames behind him. “—no authority.”
“Fuck galactic law, man! This isn’t what you were hired for! Knock off this tough guy act right now, or I won’t let you and your clowns back on the Starseed.”
“Threatening me? At a time like this?” Helwyr took a step toward the stoner. “You’ve been a captain for a couple of days. This trip proves how unworthy you are of that title. Let me give you some advice, from one captain to another. Your ship is gone. All you have left is your crew. I’ve agreed to protect you, Captain Hong, but my protection extends to your crew only as a favor. Instead of bickering, a real captain would think about them, their families, their lives.”
Charlie swallowed hard. The veneer of courage drained from his face. A pang of guilt shot through his gut. He slumped and fell back with his crew.
Swarm’s antennae slowed their twitch. Axolotl sighed and settled into a slouch.
“If you wish to survive,” Helwyr growled softly and poked a claw into Charlie’s chest, “forget your pod, forget your gear, and do as I say.”
&nb
sp; Dammit. If we make it back to the Starseed, Zee’s never gonna let me forget this.
She’d said something like this would happen. She’d tried to reason with him. She’d tried to warn him about Nadia and the Felonians. No matter how hard she’d tried, her face full of worry and frustration, he was too ape-headed to listen.
Charlie remembered the Transit Bay, how she’d pulled him close and whispered in his ear. He’d felt her breath on his neck, fragrant and warm. Felt her soft curves pressed up against his rigid frame. Those few seconds had driven him to the brink of madness.
Another wave of heat from the massive fire yanked him back to reality. Something in the back of his mind shoved its way past his hormones and grasped for her last bit of advice. What the hell had she said?
The staff!
Charlie sidestepped around the towering blue feline. Covering his face with his arms, he took a step toward the fire.
Helwyr snarled. “Avoid doing anything stupid, and we can all go home with a big, fat, juicy chocolate moose—just like you wanted. Are you listening, Captain?”
Charlie wasn’t listening. His eyes were busy darting back and forth along the base of the fire for any sign of the staff. Sweat poured from his face. His throat clenched. He felt a hand on his arm and brushed it off.
Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a few flickering specks of light coming from one end of the fire. He bolted toward it.
“Captain!” Swarm called out from behind. “What the smeg do you think you’re doing?”
With every step the heat grew more intense. As he approached, it became clear that the lights were reflecting from the metal rivets.
Without thinking, he reached through the wall of heat and grabbed the red hot staff.
He yelped, flinging it behind him as he fell onto his back. Huge blue paws lifted him off the ground and tossed him beside his crew.
“Swarm! Quick, grab a Mender!” Axolotl cried.
“I would, but our guide has thrown the Menders, the healing apparatus, and all our medical gear into the fire with the rest of our stuff.”
The Felonians howled with laughter. Helwyr stood over the trembling captain and frowned. “You risk your life for the little stick your sweetheart gave you?”
“You suck, man!” Charlie shouted as he cradled his smoking hand. “When Mother hears about this, you’ll be sorry. She’ll… She’ll…”
A riotous cackle exploded from the Felonians. Helwyr’s frown broke as he reluctantly joined in the laughter.
“Did you just threaten to tell your Mother?” He sighed and wiped a tear from his good eye. “Consider that burn a lesson, ape. Pick up your little stick, wrap your wound, and please, try to put that drug-addled brain of yours to good use. We leave in ten minutes.”
Helwyr, blue tail swaying high in the air, strutted past the crew toward his companions. The five Felonians fell into a huddle, howling and giggling to each other like rabid hyenas.
Charlie stood and joined Axo and Swarm as they gazed hopelessly at the blackened transit pod.
“Let’s take care of that burn, yo,” Axo said as he tore a strip of fabric from his tie-dyed shirt and delicately wrapped it around Charlie’s blistered palm. “Once we get back to the Starseed, Mother can heal it in no time.”
“You really think we’ll make it back?” Charlie asked.
“Of course we will, Captain.” Swarm straightened up and lowered his voice. “But, for now, we have no choice but to follow that cat turd. Look at how they’re beating their chests and frothing at the mouth. They’re filled with bloodlust. Perhaps they’ve been cooped up in the Starseed for too long, their predatory instincts laying dormant under the threat of The Mark. In any case, they’ve torched our Chatters, our medical supplies, our food. They have the upper hand. Whether it’s fair or not, our main objective must be survival, even if that means pretending to go along with those psychotic assholes for just a little while longer.”
“Just a little while longer?” Axo asked.
“That’s right, Squishy,” Swarm said, leaning in. “And as soon as the opportunity presents itself, we escape.”
8
By the time the sun peeked over the mountains, the hunting party was well on their way. Light trickled through the dense canopy and collected in dim pools. Charlie carefully picked his way over roots that the lay half-buried in the spongy layer of fallen leaves and pine needles.
Before setting out, Helwyr had been kind enough to toss them a leather canteen and some critical survival instructions:
“Stay close.” Growl.
“No talking.” Growl.
“Touch nothing.” Grooooowwwl.
When Charlie asked for a pen and some paper so he could take notes, Helwyr only bared his fangs.
For the first couple hours, no one spoke. Helwyr positioned two of his men behind the crew of the Starseed, while he and the other two Felonians led the way. Unable to crack jokes or banter with his crew, Charlie tried to distract himself from his blackened, blistered hand by taking in the Vos Praedean ecosystem.
This strange alien world, which Charlie had assumed would be different than Earth in every way, was basically Colorado. The color of the pine needles was a hint bluer than those on Earth, and they had a distinct lemony scent. The natural patterns—the veins of the leaves; the grain of the bark; the scales of the pinecones; the splotchy lichen on the rocks—all had a slightly less rounded, more geometric, shape to them, than their counterparts on Earth.
As they trekked quietly through the forest, the strangest alien organisms Charlie encountered—in fact, the only alien organisms—were the five blue, bipedal cats who held him captive. Each held a makeshift axe in one hand and a makeshift hunting knife in the other. Each wore nothing more than a loincloth around their waist and a small sack pulled tight around their chest. And each, Charlie couldn’t help notice, grew more and more pissed off with every step.
For the umpteenth time that morning, Helwyr abruptly stopped and led the party in a wide circle around some danger only he could see. This time, Charlie guessed it was the enormous tree wrapped in vines bearing large black flowers. He sighed, wondering how some dumb flowers could pose a threat, when he noticed them stretching and puckering toward the party.
Once they were safely past the vines, Helwyr turned to face the party. Charlie had never really thought of the Felonian’s face as friendly—what, with the scars and eyepatch and constant snarling—but this time it burned with frustrated, deranged hostility.
“You and your crew rest. Drink, but remember that the nearest source of water is the river at the base of the mountains. If you curs pick up the pace, we might just get there before nightfall.” He turned to his men. “Bows. Arrows. But stay close. I’ll prepare our lunch.”
Helwyr disappeared into the trees while his men got to work chopping down a small patch of adolescent saplings growing nearby. Once felled, each shaft was stripped of its bark and notched at both ends, until suddenly there were four stringless bows leaning against a nearby tree. As those dried, the Felonians snapped thin branches from larger trees and sharpened them on some flat rocks lying nearby.
After tossing another featherless arrow into the pile, the shortest of the Felonians flew to his feet and slashed his knife through the air. “Stay close? Why the hell should we?” He glared up into the trees, frothing at the mouth. “Where the hell’s danger? I didn’t come all this way to go for a walk!”
Two more Felonians got to their feet and snarled in agreement. They exchanged a series of quick, menacing hoots and pounded their fists on their furry chests.
“Hey guys,” Charlie whispered to his crew. “I think something’s got their tails in a knot, man.”
“Very observant, Captain,” Swarm rattled back.
The three agitated Felonians spun to face the crew, their tails waving excitedly. The shortest of the bunch pointed with his blade and smiled.
“Sit down!” ordered the tallest Felonian. He looked up from the pile o
f arrows he was sorting into five bundles. “You heard the boss! He’s taking care of it.”
The trio of angry felines hesitated, then took another step toward the crew.
“I said, SIT DOWN.” The tall one was on his feet, facing down the others. Their tails slowed, their ears relaxed, and they lowered their weapons. Grumbling, they squatted and resumed their primitive arrowsmithing.
Axo belched loudly and licked water from his lips. “Doesn’t make sense for them to be so upset, yo. It’s a beautiful morning! And since we haven’t been attacked by any beasties, we’re making great time.”
“You got that right, Squishy. But they’re here for blood, not leisure,” Swarm said, taking the canteen. He took a swig and leaned against a tree. “So far we’ve been lucky, I guess. Helwyr must’ve picked a low churn part of Vos Praeda. Oh well. Just shows you how good of a hunter that mutinous, psychotic Feloni—”
He was interrupted by a low, muffled crunch. His mandibles froze. His antennae stiffened. The canteen slipped from his claw, hit the ground, and splashed water onto Charlie’s boots.
“Hey, man, be careful! That’s all we have…” Charlie trailed off as his Chief of Security collapsed at his feet.
Helwyr was standing in his place—panting heavily, ears back, fangs out. A bloody claw hung into the space where Swarm had just been. Cold, blue fire burned in his good eye as he rolled the writhing insectoid over, kneeled on the back of his neck, and shoved the bloody claw deep into his carapace.
After a moment of rummaging around inside Swarm’s wing casing, he pulled it free and held the biorepulsor up for everyone to see. A dim red light hummed from its glass orb. He placed his free hand against the ground and the light brightened. He removed his hand, and it dimmed slightly.
“So, these infernal devices can use a living organism as a conduit for drawing geobionic power from a planet?” Helwyr tightened his fist around the orb and turned it to sand. After tossing the broken device aside, he stood and planted a heel on Swarm’s back.