For the Thrill of the Blunt

by Tom Sadira

  Helwyr stopped abruptly. He waved the group to his side, then pulled their heads into a tight huddle.

  “Keep your voices down,” he whispered. “Can you smell that? The chocolate on the breeze? It’s like walking into a candy store.”

  “No offense, man, but you don’t really strike me as the candy store type.”

  “I can taste it! He’s close! You, my fellow Felonians, you must be able to smell him!”

  “All I smell is that nasty urine you made the ape rub all over himself,” Shmek said.

  “Uh, and I smell something else, boss. Canipedes.” Rhys shifted his weight and leaned in closer. “It’s strong. I think there may be a whole pack nearby. Maybe we should fall back? Take cover? Just in case they—”

  “You call yourselves hunters?” Helwyr snapped, sweat dripping from his mane. He aimed the wild blue fire of his good eye at his men. “You curs have grown soft on the Starseed! I should cut off your noses, since they’re no better than the ape’s! That chocolate meat will soon be mine, do you understand? Forget the damn mongrels hiding in the bushes! Focus on the prize! Now, keep in mind that nothing less than a killing strike will do. If we wound the beast and he flees, the canipedes might steal the kill. If they deal the final blow, the carcass won’t toke back to the Starseed. Then we’ll have to fight the whole pack to reclaim it.”

  “Boss, I’m not sure the three of us could take a whole pack.” Shmek looked nervous as he picked up a soft brown turd and sniffed it. “This scat is fresh, and these tracks are new. Seems like they’re close. Real close.”

  Helwyr growled low. “If I were you, I’d worry less about those mongrels and more about what I’ll do to you if you don’t follow my orders.”

  Rhys cleared his throat. “Since you put an axe in the head of that mongrel back at the landing site, the few we’ve encountered have kept their distance. If they’re as cunning as they seem, they may try catching us off guard at close range, where our axes and arrows will be of little use. In that case, perhaps we should—”

  “Have you curs lost your spines? Forget those mongrels!” Foam flung from Helwyr’s lips. “He’s near! Do you hear me? My time has come at last! I want you fools to hide just inside the treeline in case he somehow gets past me and flees into the forest. Move quietly and look for my signals. The ape and I are heading up into the rocks. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, boss,” they answered in unison, tucking their tails between their legs.

  “Good!” Helwyr twisted his mouth into the grotesque shadow of a smile. “Let’s go make galactic history!”

  The huddle broke and all four men turned away from each other.

  They froze.

  On all sides, from all directions, crept two dozen canipedes. Each of their wolfish noses was scrunched up into a fierce, silent snarl. Their exposed fangs dripped with saliva.

  “What was that about being the most skilled hunters in the galaxy?” Charlie said.

  Helwyr frothed and trembled. “No! They won’t distract me! Not now!”

  Rhys set his bow down. He slowly positioned his hands over the axe and knife hanging from his loincloth. Shmek did the same. “Charlie, don’t move. They’re trying to spook us, to get us to run off in different directions. We’d be much easier to pick off that way. Typical pack hunting tactic. As long as we stick together, we have a fair chance of cutting them down in waves.”

  “A fair chance? Seems like a shitty chance to me,” Charlie said.

  Rhys gulped. “Agreed. But they have us surrounded. Our best chance—our only chance—is to fight back-to-back in a tight circle. If we do enough damage, they might retreat. Right, boss?”

  Helwyr swept his good eye back and forth across the scene. He looked crazed, not with fear, but with impatience. A few of the canipedes at the front of the pack began barking.

  “Hide your fear,” Shmek said calmly, sliding his blade from its sheath. “Stick together. Aim for the weak spots: their eyes, their snouts, their throats.”

  Rhys planted his feet and tensed his corded arms. “Whatever you do, no matter what happens, don’t run.”

  Charlie glanced at the Chatter rivet on his staff, then back to the pack of fanged monsters advancing toward their quartet.

  Dammit! What the hell would Captain Kirk do? Or Picard?

  Shit, I don’t even think Bruce Lee could fight his way out of this one!

  Wait. Am I stupid? Of course he could.

  The time for hiding the staff’s secret capabilities was over. It might be his only chance to say goodbye to Zee and the Starseed. He thumbed the Chatter rivet.

  Just then, a thick, furry arm wrapped around his waist and yanked him off his feet. He was swept backward, upward, and tossed onto a sturdy shoulder. A second later, he was being carried up the mountain at a frightening speed.

  Helwyr had done exactly what his men had said not to do. He’d run. But not before grabbing his return ticket to the Starseed.

  Bouncing on the Felonian’s shoulder, Charlie caught one final glance at the scene below. Long streaks of gray and brown fur skittered across the clearing and piled on top of the two blue figures. Barking and growling and hissing echoed through the boulders. Helwyr pivoted and darted around a bend, and Charlie lost sight of the battle.

  He closed his eyes and clenched the staff.

  16

  “I’m only going to ask you one more time.” Swarm crossed both sets of arms. “Drop the repulsor, and my friend here will consider letting you go.”

  “First, tell that toad to release Nip!” Fyz shouted, his arms wrapped around his companion’s legs.

  Suspended above the pit—a turquoise tongue pulling from one end, and a pair of blue arms from the other—Nipzi twisted and yanked his wrist. Swarm knew it was no use. Over the years he’d learned a very important lesson about Axolotl’s species: no matter how desperately something struggled, no matter how frantically it pulled, there was no way to escape a Nommosian tongue.

  Swarm stomped on another cluster of pitgrubs, exploding their guts beneath his feet. The bottom of the pit was slowly disappearing under a blanket of tiny, hungry mouths. The window for negotiation was just about over.

  “Okay, Squishy. You heard him. Let’s make room for one more down here.”

  “Stop! You win!” Nipzi cried. “Shit, we planned on tossing the stupid thing down there anyway!”

  He released the repulsor. Swarm picked it up and plunged it into the ground. Its cracked orb began pulsating dimly. Immediately, the grubs retreated. They stopped just a few feet away and started gathering in a steep pile.

  Smegging hell! The thing must be damaged. We need to get out of here before it completely dies.

  Swarm tilted his triangular head. “This pit is some kind of improvised prison? Why not just slit our throats and deposit our bodies down here for these little fuckers to clean up?”

  “That was the boss’s plan,” Nipzi said. “We sprinkled some black lotus pollen on your vrill meat to make sure you’d pass out, then we were supposed to carry you out here and take your heads off. But we didn’t, did we?! So let me go!”

  “Nip, shut your mouth!” growled Fyz.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you disobeyed—but I suspect it had little to do with compassion or guilt,” Swarm said.

  “Me and Fyz were talking on the way out here. We figured it was better to keep you alive, just in case something went wrong and we needed to make a trade! We planned on coming back for you!”

  Fyz leaned back and pulled with all his might. “Dammit, Nip! Shut it!”

  “I see.” Swarm paced around the flickering repulsor. “You wanted to have a couple of Starseed lieutenants as bartering chips, just in case your boss slipped and cracked his skull, or our bumbling captain wandered off and got himself eaten?”

  “S’right, flea. Now let me go!”

  “If you think about it, we’re in the same position as you fleabags. If Helwyr succeeds in getting his prize and keeping Charlie safe, there’
d be no need to come back for us, would there? In fact, doing so would only prove your disloyalty to Helwyr. You’d just leave us here.”

  “No way! We’d definitely come back for you!” Fyz called down. “Now let us get back before Helwyr gets suspicious and comes looking for us. If he finds you alive in this hole, he’ll put an arrow in your head.”

  “What do you think, Squishy? Don’t we deserve a little insurance policy of our own?”

  Axo bobbed his head.

  “How about if Nipzi keeps us company while you go help with the hunt? That way, you’ll have some motivation to pick us up on your way off this rock.”

  “Fuck you, flea!” Nipzi cried. There was a blur of fur and steel, then turquoise mist spurted into the air. Axolotl gasped and retracted his bloody tongue.

  “OOOWWWWWIIIIEEEE!” he bellowed, clasping his hands to his mouth.

  Nipzi scrambled to the rim of the pit, his makeshift blade in his hand. He unraveled the dripping, fleshy rope from around his wrist and tossed it into the mass of pitgrubs. Hundreds of hungry little mouths fell upon it and began ripping it to shreds. A dark smile spread across his face as he sheathed the knife and reached for his bow.

  “Now that I think about it, Fyz,” he lowered an arrow down at Swarm and Axolotl, “one bartering chip is as good as two.”

  “You’re right, Nip. But, which one should we keep?” Fyz stood beside him, scratching his chin. “The toad’s already wounded. Why not finish him off?”

  Swarm shoved Axolotl behind his dented elytra and pounded four fists against his chest.

  “Try shooting your twig at me, you coward!”

  Once I’m dead, and these fleabags run back to their boss, Axo can hop out of here and save himself.

  “What are you waiting for, you flea-ridden doormat? Do it!”

  Nipzi pulled back the string, closed an eye to line up the shot, and took a deep breath.

  Swarm stared down the shaft of the arrow. He refused to look away, to cower, to beg—to show any sign of fear.

  Suddenly, the ground began to rumble. Clumps of dirt broke free and tumbled down the walls of the pit.

  Nipzi hesitated. He glanced at Fyz. He opened his mouth to speak but before any sound came out they both toppled over like a pair of furry, blue dominoes.

  Swarm couldn’t see exactly what had happened, but the sounds that spilled over the rim of the pit gave clues. First, came heavy stomps on a bed of a dry noodles. With each stomp whistled a gasp of air from a deflating bagpipe. Then, something let out a series of snorts and a low, satisfied grunt. It all resolved to a muffled trio of two creatures whimpering while a third casually chewed.

  The sounds came from a patch of air that seemed to shift and shimmer. The vague outline of a nearly invisible brute—a basher, Swarm decided—vibrated against the wooded background.

  “Smegging hell.” He dropped to his knees and pulled an antenna to his mandibles. “Looks like we’re on our own. Except for these assholes, of course.” He swept a claw across the roiling sea of luminescent grubs that surrounded them. The ones that were finishing off Axo’s severed tongue were plumper and glowed more brightly than the others. “Once this repulsor finally gives out, they’ll rush us. I’ve got two broken wings, and you’ve just lost about five pounds of tongue—if you count the slobber. Hey! Cheer up, Squishy! At least you’ll regenerate, I’ll have to wait for Mother to patch me up.”

  Axolotl carefully pulled what was left of his tongue from his mouth and held it up to his goggles. His eyes lit up. He released it and smiled. “That’s it, Bugbrain! You’re a genius, yo!”

  “Did you come down with some Vos Praedean fever or something? Sit down, Squishy. We must find a way out of this hole before this repulsor dies, or Helwyr comes looking for his men.”

  Axo snatched the fallen blunt from the soil and toked its ember back to life. He passed it to Swarm, then slammed his eyes shut, clenched his teeth, and tensed his body in a half-squat.

  Swarm sighed, spewing a stream of white smoke over the sea of grubs. “Can’t you wait to drop a log until we’re up on the surface?”

  “Shhhh!” Axo snapped. “I can’t do it if you’re talking!”

  Oh man. The little guy’s finally smoked himself stupid.

  There was a popping sound, then a soft thud. Axolotl stepped aside to reveal a chubby, tapered tail laying on the ground.

  “Ta-da!” Axo cheered, bobbing his dreads. “There goes twenty, maybe thirty, pounds. Now it’s your turn, yo.”

  Swarm choked on his hit. He had to give it to Squishy—dropping his tail to shed weight was an ingenious idea. But he decided he’d rather be eaten alive than do the thing his crewmate was suggesting.

  “No way,” he said bluntly. “My morphic field has just started to feel normal again. Come hell or high water, I’m keeping myself together.”

  “At some point you gotta let go of past trauma, dude!” Axo said.

  “Past trauma? It happened three smegging days ago! Excuse me if I’m still feeling a little defensive.”

  “Fine, but I think it’s pretty dang selfish—and stupid, yo—to let us die just because you’re hung up on the past.”

  “Hung up on the past? Like I said, it was only three smegging—wait! Did you just say let us die? We both know you can jump out of here any time you want!”

  “True,” Axo said, his goggles growing foggy. “But we both know I won’t—not without you, Bugbrain.”

  “Is your head stuffed full of seaweed?” Swarm was on his feet. “What about Sally? What about the wogs? You have a family on the Starseed. They need you! Don’t let them down!”

  Axo stood on his tiptoes to face off with the bulky insectoid. “What do you think I’m doing right now? I’m not leaving without you! And if anyone’s letting the wogs down, it’s you!”

  Swarm had spent years in combat training, followed by decades of experience on the interstellar battlefield. He’d stared down death more times than he could count. He had an exoskeleton, for smeg’s sake. Despite all that, he couldn’t withstand the spear of guilt that plunged through his chest. His willpower crumpled.

  He held the smoldering brown cylinder out to Axolotl.

  “Hold my blunt, motherfucker.”

  17

  Folded over Helwyr’s shoulder, Charlie’s vision was filled with two furry legs and a long, slender tail stealing across a blur of rock and shadows—but he saw none of it. His eyes were glazed over, watching the tragedy unfold again and again and again.

  He’d caught a few more glimpses of the battle as Helwyr sped up the mountain. The two Felonians fought valiantly—stabbing at jaws, slashing at claws—but from his vantage point Charlie could see how hopeless it was. An inexhaustible supply of canipedes attacked in waves, allowing the defenders no chance to catch their breath.

  Rhys had turned to take one last look at his mentor before being overwhelmed. Nothing in his face suggested fear. There was no hint of anger. No trace of shock or disbelief. The only emotion Charlie saw in that final moment was soul-crushing disappointment.

  He left them.

  His crew. His apprentices. His friends.

  Just left them to die.

  Charlie shook the image from his head and tried to reorient himself in the present.

  The magenta smudge that crept up the western sky told him evening had begun. The rest of the party had been gone since before dawn. It was time to let go of the ridiculous fantasy that his crew was about to stroll out of the trees with some incredible story explaining how they’d survived a whole day in the Vos Praedean wilderness.

  The truth was that he’d never see them again. Nor would their families or friends back on the Starseed.

  Charlie hadn’t taken the time to meet Axolotl’s mate—and the way things were going, he wouldn’t get the chance. He imagined she looked like a pink version of Axo, with a big, warm, maternal heart to match. A heart that would soon be obliterated by her worst fear coming true.

  He pictured the dozen miniat
ure Axolotls bobbing in the ocean outside his captain’s quarters. What an ass he’d been! Yelling at them to scram, thinking only of himself and his lack of privacy. Now, all he could think about was how their lives were about to change forever. The wogs, as he’d heard them called, would grow up to become emotionally-stunted delinquents—just like Charlie had when his mom left.

  The thought of ruined childhoods reminded him that some of the Felonians had pregnant wives back on the Starseed. Did they deserve to raise their cubs alone just because their husband’s boss turned out to be a homicidal maniac?

  Dammit! No more fooling myself.

  None of that is Helwyr’s fault.

  It’s mine.

  Charlie closed his eyes. Everyone would still be safe aboard the Starseed if he hadn’t let that snaky bitch plunge her fangs into his head and poison his mind.

  Here, at what was presumably the end of his life, it was clear that Nadia had played him. First, she’d drugged him with a Denubian Dewdrop—whatever the hell that was. Then, seizing on his abundant virility, she’d hypnotized him with her jiggly curves and her breathy whispers. Once his brain had been sufficiently softened, tilled, and filled with shit, she’d planted seeds of doubt about Mother and his crew.

  Was that her plan? To sow discord between the new captain and his crew?

  Or was her plan to use Vos Praeda—and maybe Helwyr, if needed—as assassins, so she could take control of the Starseed?

  Even that explanation was too simple. There had to be more. Charlie’s head spun.

  If I could get just one goddamn hit—just enough to get the ole brain workin’—I’m sure I could figure this shit out in no time.

  Nadia claimed to have been Captain Major Tom’s Chief of Secrets, and hinted that she knew about the weapon he’d been building. By offering Charlie the late captain’s Outernet history, she’d indirectly offered to help him complete it.