Space Team

by Barry J. Hutchison

  Cal yanked his hand free from under Jjin’s boot and raised up onto his knees. He swung with an uppercut, driving it straight into the alien’s groin.

  Pain exploded in Cal’s knuckles and vibrated down his arm. Jjin’s nostrils flared, but otherwise he didn’t show any sign he’d even noticed the strike.

  “Jesus,” Cal grimaced. “What do you keep down there?”

  He yelped as Jjin caught him by the hair and yanked him into a standing position. Behind him, Loren twirled into a spinning kick, smashing her heel against one of the soldier’s unsuspecting heads.

  “Cal, you OK?” she asked, backflipping to avoid a stabbing shock-stick.

  “Oh yeah, yeah, I totally got this,” Cal insisted, trying to untangle his hair from Jjin’s grasping fingers. “You handle those guys, I’ve got Jjin.”

  Cal cried out as Jjin tossed him through the air. He hit the hull of the Shatner with a thud and dropped like a stone to the floor.

  Roaring, Cal leapt up and slammed his shoulder into Jjin’s stomach. Unmoved, Jjin drove a hammer strike into Cal’s back, dropping him to one knee.

  Stumbling out of the alien’s reach, Cal straightened, supporting his lower back with both hands.

  “Ow. Ow. That is going to bruise in the morning,” he muttered.

  Behind him, Loren powered a sideways kick into gill-neck’s stomach, then smashed an elbow strike into the side of his head.

  Cal bounced from foot to foot, raising his fists. “OK. OK. You want to do this? Let’s do this. Me and you. Right now. You are going down.”

  “Are all humans this tiresome?” said Jjin.

  “No. Largely just me,” said Cal. “Now come on, you want some? Come get some!”

  He danced forwards, bobbing and weaving. Jjin watched him, impassively.

  Cal feigned a left, then swung with a right. Jjin’s hand caught his fist and squeezed. Cal hissed as he felt his bones grind together.

  “Quite pathetic,” Jjin said. He slammed an open hand strike into Cal’s chest, sending him crashing to the floor near the Shatner’s loading ramp.

  Cal clutched at his chest, gasping for breath. He tried to stand, but his legs overruled him.

  Jjin closed in. He unhooked his shock stick from his belt and flicked his wrist, extending the electric prod to its full length. It hummed with the promise of pain.

  “Hey, wait, let’s talk about this,” Cal coughed, but Jjin had no intention of stopping. His face twisted into a wicked sneer as he lunged.

  From the top of the ramp came the sound of footsteps. Jjin and Cal both looked up the ramp. A young man with dark hair stood just inside the ship.

  “Who is that?” Jjin demanded.

  Cal was dimly aware of his mouth hanging open, but couldn’t summon the effort required to close it. He looked at the young man at the top of the ramp and blinked several times, in case it was a trick of the light.

  “Unless I’m very much mistaken,” he said, at last. “That is Tobey Maguire.”

  Jjin looked Tobey Maguire slowly up and down, then shrugged. “I’ll deal with him momentarily. For now…”

  He lunged at Cal with the shock-rod. Tobey Maguire melted into a sliver of slime that slithered across Cal’s chest. Splurt shrieked as he took the brunt of the shock, then flobbed around him, encasing him from the neck down in a suit of gloopy green goo.

  “Splurt? What are you doing?”

  Cal stood up. He didn’t plan to, and he wasn’t entirely convinced his legs were supposed to bend that way, but he was upright in the blink of an eye.

  Around him, the green goo shifted and squirmed into a silver suit of living armor. Cal grinned as a helmet bloomed across his head, cocooning it completely.

  “Now that,” he said, his voice echoing around inside the mask. “Is more like it!”

  Jjin lunged with the shock stick. Cal pivoted on one foot, spun in a full circle, and drove the tip of an elbow into the back of Jjin’s head. The alien stumbled forwards, a hiss of pain bursting on his lips.

  “You think that… thing can protect you?” Jjin growled. “From me?”

  “I don’t know.” Cal shrugged, and the Splurt-suit shrugged with him. “How about we find out?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Loren rammed three fingers of her right hand so hard into one of the shock-troopers throats that a wad of snot shot down both his nostrils.

  She followed up with a flying knee to his lower chest that she knew would add to the already pretty substantial breathing problems the guy was having.

  Sure enough, he dropped to the floor, clutching at his throat and his ribcage, all thoughts of throwing punches replaced by the crippling desire to breathe.

  Loren turned to the only soldier left standing. Gill-neck glanced uncertainly at his fallen friends, a shock-stick in one hand, a purple bruise blooming from one eye socket.

  “So, you were saying something about… botak?” Loren said.

  “Stay back!” gill-neck warned, waving the shock-stick. “I’ll use this. I’m warning you.”

  “Ooh. That doesn’t seem fair at all,” she said. Stooping, she picked up one of the fallen sticks and studied the charged end. She nodded briefly, then tossed the stick to the soldier. He caught it and stared at it in confusion for a few moments.

  “There,” said Loren. “That might even things up.”

  She beckoned him closer. “Now come on, endigm. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

  A few feet away, Cal skipped back as Jjin swung with an arcing overhead punch. Thrown off-balance, the officer stumbled forwards. The Splurt-gloves tightened as Cal caught Jjin by the shoulders and swung him, head-first, into the side of the Shatner.

  “Oh yeah,” Cal laughed, holding up his hands to admire his living armor. “This is awesome. Everyone should have one of these!”

  “You idiot!” Jjin spat from down on his knees. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. We control the Symmorium Sentience. We’ve already won.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Cal. “I’ve got my best man working on it right now. With any luck, he’s sorted it out already.”

  “Impossible!”

  “I’ll be honest, Jjin, it’s been a pretty impossible few days, from my point of view. Mech is going to fix the Sentience. Trust me.”

  “But he can’t. He mustn’t! The galaxy will be plunged into war. Billions will die!”

  “A war you started,” said Cal. “You could have had peace. You were all working towards peace.”

  “We don’t want peace,” Jjin spat. “We want victory!”

  He lunged, ramming his shock stick into Cal’s stomach. Splurt squealed and seemed to explode into a million tiny droplets of gunge. They hung in the air for a fraction of a second, then landed with a gelatinous splat on the deck.

  Cal swung with a punch, but Jjin blocked it easily. He swung Cal in a half-circle, and this time it was Cal’s face’s turn to be introduced to the hull of the ship.

  Stars swam behind Cal’s eyes. The floor sucked at him like quicksand. He was on his knees. When had that happened?

  He tried to crawl towards the ramp, but the ground undulated uncomfortably and he rolled, puffing and panting, onto his back beneath the ship’s thrusters.

  Jjin stood over him, glaring down. “Speaking of billions dying, I wonder how Earth is getting on,” Jjin said. “I wonder if there are any left alive?”

  He twisted his shock-stick and the low hum became a high-pitched whine. “It wasn’t really an accident, you know?” he said. “The bugs. All deliberate. I oversaw it myself. Completely unnecessary, of course, but it brightened my day.”

  Jjin’s mouth curved into a sickening smirk. “You know, Carver, you may well be the last human being alive?” he said. He raised the shock-stick. “It will be a real pleasure to make your entire species extinct.”

  “Wait!” Cal yelped, raising a hand. “Before you do… do you want to kn
ow who Shatner is?”

  Jjin hesitated. “What?”

  “Shatner. The ship. Do you want to know who I named it after?”

  “Not really.”

  “It’s a funny story,” Cal promised. “You’ll like it.”

  Jjin’s face twitched in irritation. “Fine. Who is he?”

  “He’s the second most cunning space captain the human race has ever had,” said Cal.

  “Second?” Jjin grunted. “Who’s the first?”

  Cal smiled. “Funny you should ask.” He held up the remote control he’d taken from Jjin’s belt. “That would be me,” he said, then he pressed a button and the Shatner’s thrusters erupted in a flare of blue fire. “That’s for Tobey Maguire, you weird-eyebrowed mass-murdering fonk.”

  As Jjin wafted to the ground in a flurry of smouldering ash, gill-neck crumpled next to him, black fluid oozing from his nose.

  “You OK?” Loren asked, limping across to join Cal beside the ship. At the far end of the hangar, a wide set of doors opened, and a whole squadron of shock-troops came racing in.

  “Yeah. Great,” Cal wheezed, doubling over as he tried to get his breath back. He nodded in the direction of the approaching soldiers. “Listen, I’ll take the one on the left, you take the other twenty.”

  “Or we could get out of here,” Loren suggested.

  “Yes. Yes, I like that plan,” Cal agreed. He scooped up the quivering Splurt and tucked him sloppily under one arm.

  Loren started up the ramp, but Cal hung back, searching the ground. “What are you looking for?” Loren said. “They’re coming.”

  “My tiny gun. I still didn’t get to fire it,” Cal said.

  “You can’t shoot them all,” Loren said. “Come on.”

  Cal spotted the gun, half-buried by Jjin dust. He picked it up, then hooked it into gill-neck’s belt, keeping the trigger pressed down.

  He secured the trigger against the soldier’s belt, then backed away slowly. When he was sure the gun wasn’t going to fire, he turned and bounded up the ramp just before it swung shut. The Shatner bounced clumsily into the air, then raced towards the energy wall that separated the inside of the cruiser from the cold clutches of outer space.

  As the Shatner sped away, gill-grunt opened his eyes. He felt something shuddering in his pants, and a warmth against his skin that quickly rose to a searing heat as Cal’s tiny pistol hit its upper charge limit.

  “Oh… shizz,” Gill-neck whispered.

  BOOM!

  The soldier, the deck, and everything within a sixty-feet radius erupted. The shockwave slammed the Shatner against the ceiling of the docking bay, destroying what remained of its shields.

  “Hold on!” Loren yelped, fighting with the controls as the ship scraped along the ceiling and plunged out through the force-field.

  “Shields gone. If those Zertex fighters come back around, we are done for,” Loren said.

  “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” said Cal. “Look!”

  On screen, the Symmorium ships were tearing through what was left of the Zertex attack fleet.

  “He did it. Mech did it,” said Loren.

  “Unbelievable! I didn’t think he had a chance,” laughed Cal. “Uh, by which I mean, of course he did it. I never doubted the big lug for a minute.”

  * * *

  Cal, Loren, Mech and Miz stood in the landing bay of the Symmorium Sentience’s station, surrounded by kneeling Symmorium.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Cal whispered, as the shark-like aliens all lowered and kissed the ground before them. “And probably unhygienic.”

  “You saved the Sentience, and the Symmorium,” said Commander Junta, getting to his feet. His daughter rose beside him, and Cal kept one eye on her in case she decided to try any funny stuff. “And for that, you have our gratitude.”

  “What about Zertex?” asked Loren. “What will you do?”

  Junta’s eyes darkened. “Whatever is necessary. It was we who first made the offer of peace. Perhaps we shall offer it again. Perhaps we shall not. It will be for the Sentience to decide.”

  “And the whole blowing up the moon thing,” said Cal. “You know that wasn’t us, right?”

  “Yes. We know,” said Junta. “The Symmorium bears you no ill will. In fact, we would like to reward you.”

  “Reward us?” said Mech, pushing Cal aside and stepping to the front. “You’d like to reward us? Well alright! What were you thinking? Credits? I can take credits. Zertex were offering us a planet, but we don’t have to go that far. I mean, you can if you want, I ain’t gonna say no, but credits would be just fine.”

  “Even better,” said Junta. “We would like to present you with the key to Symmorium space. It allows you the freedom to travel within our borders as you see fit, without fear of recourse.”

  “A key?” said Mech.

  “Hey, that’s… that’s great,” said Cal. “Thanks.”

  “A motherfonking key?” Mech held out a hand. “OK, fine. Where is it?”

  “Where is what?” asked Junta.

  “This key.”

  “It’s a metaphorical key,” said Junta. “Not a real one.”

  Mech’s shoulders slumped. “So I don’t even get a real key? Fine. Fine, whatever, man.”

  He turned and trudged up the ramp leading into the ship, muttering below his breath as he went.

  “He appreciates your generosity,” said Loren.

  “I don’t think he does,” said Miz. “He looked pretty disappointed.”

  “Yes, but he always looks like that,” said Cal.

  “No, he doesn’t,” said Miz. “He’s probably crying in there.”

  “Then maybe you should go check on him,” said Cal. “Make sure he’s OK?”

  Miz huffed in annoyance. “Fine. Whatever,” she sighed, then she headed up after Mech.

  “Safe travels, my friends,” said Junta.

  “Thanks. You too,” said Cal. He pointed to Junta’s daughter. “And watch out for this one. She’s dangerous.”

  “Yes,” said Junta, proudly. “Yes, she is.”

  * * *

  “Captain on the bridge,” said Cal, ducking through the doorway and stepping onto the flight deck. Splurt pulsed excitedly on the floor, clearly happy to see him. For possibly the first time ever, though, he wasn’t the only one.

  “I gotta admit,” said Mech. “All things considered, we did pretty good out there.”

  Cal slipped into his seat. “Saved an entire species from extinction, cured a zombified god and beat the bad guys,” said Cal. He nodded. “Yeah, not a bad day’s work.”

  “Except the bad guys aren’t beaten, are they?” said Miz, slumping into her chair. She picked a chunk of Symmorium out from beneath a claw and pinged it across the room. “President Sinclair’s the one behind it all.”

  “She’s right,” said Loren. “Sinclair will come after us. He won’t stop until he makes us pay.”

  Cal waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, he’ll be too busy with the war he just started. Or restarted. Or whatever he did.”

  “He’ll have the Symmorium and the Remnants to deal with,” Mech said. “That’s gonna keep him pretty busy, but don’t underestimate the guy. He’ll be after us sooner or later.”

  “One thing I don’t get,” Loren began.

  Cal snorted. “One thing? I’ve got a list of, like, ten things I don’t get. What’s yours?”

  “If Sinclair was behind the virus – if he orchestrated his whole thing, released it on Pikkish, all that stuff…”

  “What about it?” asked Cal.

  “Why send us to meet Kornack? If he already knew where the virus had been unleashed, why not just send us straight there?”

  “Ha,” said Cal. “I’d have thought that was pretty obvious.”

  Loren frowned. “No. Why?”

  “Tell her, Mech,” Cal said.

  Mech shrugged. “Hell if I know. I been wond
ering the same thing myself.”

  “Yeah, OK, I have no idea,” Cal admitted. “Maybe he was just, you know, covering his tracks? Or maybe Kornack released the virus, and Splurt was his reward?”

  “Or maybe Zertex weren’t behind it at all,” said Miz. “And we just killed, like, a whole load of innocent people for no reason.”

  “Yeah, it’s not that one,” said Cal, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “It won’t be that one. I’m, like, ninety percent sure it’s not that one.”

  He slapped a hand on his thigh. “So, what now, crew?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Loren.

  Cal offered up a top flight smile. “I mean, what are our plans from here? In which direction will we boldly go?”

  “What you talking about, man?” asked Mech. “It’s over. Now, we all go our separate ways.”

  “Yeah, I am so going home,” said Miz. “After all this, my dad doesn’t seem quite so bad.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Mech. “I think I might turn myself in, serve out my time in a nice cosy cell somewhere. Safer than running around space getting shot at all the time.”

  Loren nodded. “I’m going back to Zertex,” she said. “I’ll face their court martial. They’ll probably put me to death, but rules are rules.”

  “Oh. What?” said Cal. “Oh. I mean. Yeah. Yeah, that’s all… That’s great.” He cleared his throat. “Or, you know, we could just bum around space for a while, getting into trouble and having adventures.”

  A smile crept slowly across Loren’s face. “Yeah,” she said, sliding into the pilot’s seat. “Yeah, I guess we could do that instead.”

  “Whatever you say, captain,” said Mech, clamping his feet to the floor.

  “Ooh,” groaned Miz, trembling as her tongue flicked up over her teeth. “I always did like a man with power.”

  Cal smiled. “Loren, fire up the thrusters,” he said, settling back in his chair and gripping the edges of his arm rests.

  It wasn’t home.

  It couldn’t be farther from it, in fact.

  But, for now, it was close enough.