For the Thrill of the Blunt

by Tom Sadira

  Charlie’s eyes darted from Helwyr’s scowl, to the busted biorepulsor, to his wounded crewmate. His heart pounded. His mind raced.

  Picard would never abide one of his officers being beaten right before his eyes. He’d have wielded his intelligence, his sharp wit, and his command of language to save the day. Charlie suddenly wished he’d spent the last decade using his brain for something other than growing cannabis.

  Kirk would’ve let his fists do the talking. When he was done laying out the villain with a single punch, he’d somehow pull a phaser or laser or disruptor shooty thingy out of his ass and stun the goons.

  The only thing he had that resembled a weapon was the walking stick Zylvya had given him. Sure, he’d memorized the scene from Return of the Dragon where Bruce Lee beat up the Italian mob with a broomstick. Sure, even without any formal training, it’d be enough to take down the four smaller Felonians. No problemo.

  But Helwyr was a goddamn giant. A giant with huge goddamn claws. Claws that had just penetrated the exoskeletal shell that protects Swarm’s wings.

  Swarm has wings?

  Jesus fucking Christ. I’m way too sober for this shit.

  “This was a serious violation of my rules!” frothed Helwyr.

  Charlie stepped forward. “Heeeey man, we understand your frustration. Friggin’ Swarm! What a knucklehead! Am I right? But…” He pretended to scribble something onto a clipboard, then ran a finger down an invisible list. “Technically, he followed all the rules you stated: stay close, no talking, touch nothing—all that jazz.” He mimed flipping a page over, squinted, then tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmph. Nope, don’t see anything about hiding biorepulsors.”

  A ferocious roar bellowed from behind the big blue dude’s fangs. Charlie tossed the imaginary clipboard aside and risked another step forward.

  “Okay, I can see how his actions maybe, kinda violated the spirit of the rules. But hey, man, there’s no need for you to burden yourself with someone else’s crew, right? Swarm’s my responsibility. Let me have a talk with him. I’ll coach him up a bit, try to keep this thing from happening again. We’ll sketch out a personal development action plan, set some metrics for him to work on, and I’ll schedule some one-on-one meetings over the next few months where he and I can sit down and evaluate his progress—”

  “Enough!” Helwyr swiped a claw through the air. “How do I know the two of you aren’t hiding any more tricks? Maybe I should start digging around in your bodies as well.”

  Charlie chuckled nervously and returned to his ever-so-slightly-safer-but-when-you-think-about-it-not-really spot beside Axolotl.

  “But wait, we don’t have exoskeletons. We don’t have any secret compartments in our bodies where we could hide any…”

  Charlie trailed off as he suddenly understood why Helwyr’s scowl twisted upwards into a demented grin. Furry clamps seized him from behind.

  “Just hold on, man!”

  “Think about it, yo!” Axo cried as two more Felonians flanked him. “You’d know if we had any more repulsors, right? Just look around!”

  Helwyr’s ear swiveled and twitched. He glared up into the canopy. “Perhaps there’s another way we can check for biorepulsors.”

  Swarm inhaled sharply as Helwyr stepped off his back. The wounded insectoid pushed himself onto his arms just in time to absorb the full impact of Helwyr’s foot.

  “To make up for his transgression, don’t you think the Lieutenant should assist in this experiment?” He grabbed Swarm’s antennae and dragged him along the forest floor to a small clearing. Swarm scrambled onto his hands and knees, and again, Helwyr delivered a series of powerful kicks. When he finally stopped trying to get up, Helwyr spat and strutted back to the rest of the hunting party.

  An excited, lustful screech reverberated from high in the trees. A shadow soared across the clearing and came to rest on a branch near the ground. It was a vrill—one of the devilish vulture beasts they’d seen flying over the canopy.

  “Let’s give these two lovebirds some space, shall we?” Helwyr said.

  Two beady, black eyes scanned the party, widening once they found Swarm. It spread its oily black wings to either side as its beakless, gaping mouth shrieked with delight.

  Charlie tried to shake himself free, but the Felonian holding him only laughed. “Swarm was just doing his job! We get it! You’re pissed off! Stop fucking around!”

  “You win, yo!” shouted Axo. “We promise, no more tricks!”

  The vrill fluttered down to a branch just above the clearing. It whipped a long, black tongue through the air and licked its flame-broiled skin.

  Helwyr looked on, arms crossed, no indication that he was going to stop the carnage.

  Releasing a shrill cackle, the beast launched itself from its perch and glided silently toward Swarm. As soon as its feet touched the ground, it folded its wings at its sides and cocked its grotesque face in the party’s direction as if to ask, “You’re just going to let me eat him?”

  Charlie and Axo began yelling at the monstrous thing. After the vrill realized they were all bark and no bite, it pinned Swarm to the ground with a single razor-sharp talon. After surveying the idle party one more time, it screeched triumphantly into the air.

  “Hey, assholes!” Charlie screamed. “Do something!”

  Tar-like foam dripped from the vrill’s cracked lips as it angled its face down at the helpless insectoid, trying to decide where to take the first bite.

  Charlie broke free from the Felonian’s grasp and snatched his wooden staff from the ground.

  Fuck it. What kind of captain would I be if I didn’t try.

  The monster lowered its jagged teeth toward the back of Swarm’s neck. Charlie leapt forward and twirled the staff around his waist, doing his best Bruce Lee impression. He might not be able to kill the beast, but he’d knock a few of its teeth out before the battle was over. If he was lucky, he could poke its eye or break its wing and send it shrieking back to its mommy. As unlikely as it seemed, it was worthwhile if it meant buying Swarm a few moments to crawl away.

  He tried another twirl over his shoulder, but this time lost his grip on the staff and sent it flying into a pile of fallen leaves about ten feet away.

  Dammit, Charlie!

  An arrow zipped past Charlie’s ear and struck the creature in the throat. The vrill let loose a painful, wretched gasp. It beat its wings wildly, then crumpled into a heap of black feathers.

  A bluish-white streak darted out from behind a nearby tree and climbed atop the convulsing vrill. Helwyr pinned the beast down with one knee while he began hacking at the thing’s shoulder with his makeshift blade. Within seconds, a huge black wing was separated from the beast and oozed tarrish blood onto the forest floor. Without hesitation, he turned and hacked off the other wing. The beast stopped struggling.

  Helwyr flung a glob of the blood from his hand, then wiped his blade clean on the beast’s torso.

  “Brothers! Normally, I would’ve aimed for the brain or the heart, for a quick kill.” He grabbed a bit of the sagging red flesh from the vrill’s head and lifted it up for them to see. “But in this case I aimed for the throat. That disabled the beast long enough for me to harvest what we need before the Starseed auto-toking kicked in.”

  The Felonians pushed past Charlie and his crew to get a better look at the axe sticking out of the monster’s red throat. All at once, the corpse dissolved into green smoke. The smoke swirled upward into the treetops and vanished into the sky.

  “Only the main carcass is auto-toked, leaving behind some useful parts.” He nodded to the wings that lay at his feet.

  “This was all a goddamn hunting lesson, man?”

  Ignoring Charlie, Helwyr continued addressing his men. “If memory serves me correctly, vrill tendons make very sturdy bowstrings, and their feathers will help your arrows fly straight. And, we now have enough meat to last a couple of days.”

  “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?” Charlie stood as tall as he co
uld to face off with Helwyr—and found himself staring at a pair of furry, blue nipples.

  “Men, cut the tendons.” He snarled and pushed Charlie away with one finger. “As for you, Captain, you and your crew will pull every last feather from these wings. I want them strapped to your backs and ready to move out in ten minutes.”

  “What about Swarm? Look at him! He needs some medical attention, man!”

  “If he’s unable to keep up, we leave him here. Any delays, and I’ll come up with another lesson for my men.”

  9

  “Shit! Still no ping response. I’m, uh, not even sure if our signal’s reaching the surface.” Del swiped a finger along the circular console, then tapped out a series of numbers on its keypad display. “But it’s all data, I guess. At least we’re learning what doesn’t work.”

  He sipped from a tube that attached to the shoulder of his bodysuit as he flicked through pages of results. “Dang, the Vos Praedean atmosphere is off the charts! The layer of unstable ions must be four, maybe five miles thick. Mother, how about we try all frequencies at the same time? Full spectrum. Triple kilowatts. Maybe that will, uh, penetrate.” He blushed.

  “Sounds good, honey,” Mother answered, warmth in her voice. “You know, darlin’, the urges you’re feeling are normal for a body of your age. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, if you want, I can—”

  “Nope! I’m fine. Just fine.” Squirming, he spun to face the new digital control panel that appeared. “Let’s just, uh, focus on locating the team, okay? In three… two… one!” Del punched a fist on the screen a little harder than he meant to.

  He couldn’t believe she’d bring up his body again. His stupid, frail, teenaged body. Did she really have to respond to every single biological anomaly he experienced? It’s not like this was his first time. Embodiment was what he’d done for centuries. It’s what his kind did. He’d get through this humanoid puberty thing just like he had all the other times, in all the other shells.

  Can’t she go just one day without, uh, embarrassing me?

  The console emitted a low hum. Lights flashed and blinked. He brushed the greasy black hair away from his eyes and stared at the array of numbers on the screen. Each digit became a blur of pixels. Every row shrunk, until, one by one, he was staring at another grid of zeros.

  > COMMUNICATION ARRAY ALIGNMENT: 0%

  > SIGNAL OFFLINE

  “Shit!” He swiped the zeros away and stared at the blank screen. “Nothing. Uh, well, I guess we’ll try something else.”

  One of the round purple doors that lined the perimeter of the Bridge swirled open. Zylvya glided in, an emerald braid slung over one shoulder.

  Del looked up long enough to feel another rush of blood swell in his cheeks. He could feel her eyes on him as she approached. What was she looking at? Why did she, a Lieutenant on the most advanced starship in the galaxy, insist on wearing such a tight orange toga all the time? The Galactic Federation would flip out if they knew how thin, how transparent, how wiggly their dress code guidelines were being adhered to on the Starseed. His lips turned from blue to purple as blood continued surging through his body.

  Think about number arrays.

  Boring, old number arrays.

  But no 8’s. No 3’s. No 6’s, no 9’s.

  Damn this hormonal humanoid shell!

  “Still at work, I see. Any luck?” She flipped her braid from one shoulder to the other and shot him a sisterly smile.

  Del hid behind his hair. “Uhm, yeah. I mean, no. Nothing yet.”

  “Maybe it’s time for a break, honey?” Mother chimed in. “You’ve been at it since last night. Why not get some rest? I can keep tryin’, and I’ll wake you if anything changes?”

  “No way! No one ever lets me go on missions. What if they need something? This is, uh, my only way of helping the team.” Del typed furiously. “Besides, something doesn’t add up. I can’t rest until I figure it out.”

  “Del, your support is critical to every one of the Starseed’s missions. Remember that time on Voltic Beta? The Gelfling Mind Herders we ran into? If you hadn’t sent those quantum disruptors at precisely the right moment—if you’d been a millisecond too early or too late—I wouldn’t be standing here today.” Zylvya placed a hand on his forearm.

  A bolt of lightning shot up his spine. He pulled his arm away and pretended to flick through data on his console.

  “Have you seen Cassandra lately?” she asked. “She’s always at Nylf’s Arcade. I hear she’s quite the reigning champ over there. I bet she’d love a worthy challenger.”

  If they don’t stop harassing me, I swear on Orion’s belt, I’ll self-destruct!

  Del spun away from Zylvya and started typing up boot sequences for a school of repeater drones. “It just doesn’t make sense. Unless the Vos Praedean ionosphere has, uh, significantly thickened over the last decade, my pings should be reaching their Chatters.”

  “When was the last time you heard from them?”

  “Swarm checked in just after they landed, and Axo called Sally and the wogs three times last night. Since then, uh, nothing.”

  “Wait, Axo didn’t call Sally this morning?”

  “Nope. No word from anyone on the surface. We lost contact with the transit pod and all the Chatters around daybreak this morning.”

  Zylvya shifted her curves from one foot to the other and fiddled with her braid. A teacup and saucer morphed along the top of Del’s console, then filled with a steaming, fragrant liquid.

  “Zee! How many times do I have to tell you guys! No beverages on my console!”

  “Sorry.” She took the cup and sipped. “I’m starting to worry. What if something happened to them?”

  “If anything, uh, happened to them—meaning, if they died—their carcasses would auto-toke to our processing bay.” Del swept a hand from the console to the air, and a holographic list appeared beside them. “This is the trophy log. As you can see, we, uh, received a canipede and some small invertebrates yesterday, but nothing at all today. Doesn’t seem right for a hunting party, does it?”

  “No.” She sipped again and scrunched her green eyebrows together. “Especially not a hunting party with Felonians.”

  “I read up on those guys. They’re, uh, pretty unstable. Maybe we should head down there?”

  Zylvya held her cup in both hands and inhaled the steam. Before she could answer, a rhythmic buzz broke the silence. Del tapped a blinking light on his screen, and a new row appeared on the floating list.

  “We just received a vrill in the processing bay. Wingless, with a wound to the throat. Looks like they finally, uh, bagged another beastie.” Del pushed the hologram back into the screen. “Still, we should get communication back online. I just finished booting some repeater drones, and I’m going to deploy them along the vector between us and the landing site. If they don’t disintegrate in the atmosphere, maybe I can jam a signal through.”

  “Repeater drones?” She brightened. “Del, that’s brilliant! Let me know as soon as you make contact.”

  “Thanks, Zee. I will.”

  “Oh, and about that little test you’re helping me with…” She locked eyes with him. “Any results yet?”

  “Nope. Still processing the data in a, uh, compartmentalized background process, just like you asked. I can’t believe it’s taking so long. Where’d you get that sample from, anyway?”

  Zee smiled and flung her braid behind her. “I’ll let you know once we have the results. Until then, keep it between us, okay?”

  10

  “Ow!”

  Charlie winced as another pebble pelted his forehead.

  “Motherfucker!”

  A pair of blue paws shoved him from behind. “Move it, ape!”

  Charlie shrugged the giant, featherless wing higher on his aching back, gritted his teeth, and plodded forward. He made it a whole five steps before a new stream of tiny rocks rained down from the trees and pummeled him. Most bounced off his af
ro, his thick camo jacket, or the wing—but one struck his ear and drew blood.

  “What the fucking fuck?!” Charlie stopped to nurse his ear and earned another shove.

  “Keep moving, or we’ll leave you behind,” growled the Felonian who’d been tasked with babysitting him.

  In the hours since the biorepulsor had been destroyed, they’d been attacked by wave after wave of strange beasts. After letting his men engage in battle with a few terrifying creatures, Helwyr made it clear that their goal was to make it to the mountains before nightfall. The real challenges—the real fun—lay there. Until then, they were to protect Charlie and his crew, and avoid unnecessary distractions.

  “Why are they only hitting me, man? What the hell did I do?”

  Helwyr appeared in front of Charlie, seemingly from out of thin air, just as he had done a dozen times during their afternoon stroll through the Vos Preadean forest. He unscrewed the cap from a leather canteen and passed it over the stoner’s head. “The species blovado roedor have fleshy pockets in their cheeks that they fill with tiny, hard objects—rocks, acorns, whatever they can scrounge. Perched high in the trees, safely out of reach, they use specialized mouth tubes to launch the projectiles at their prey. Just a minor nuisance.”

  “Taste pretty good, too—if you can manage to catch one.” The tall Felonian, who Charlie guessed was Helwyr’s second-in-command, took a swig from the canteen and tossed it to his companions.

  “Okay, fine. Thanks for the zoology lesson.” As Charlie dabbed at his bloody ear with his sleeve, something whizzed by his nose. He dropped into a crouch. “But why the hell aren’t they hitting you guys, too? Seems like I’m the only one they’re targeting.”

  The short Felonian took a swig and chuckled. “Blovs only attack what they deem weak enough to kill—and you’re the smallest in our party, little ape.”

  “You know how that feels, eh Shmek?” one of the Felonians threw back his whiskers and howled with laughter. Shmek punched him hard in the shoulder, but it only made the rest of the Felonians join in.