Space Team: The Search for Splurt

by Barry J. Hutchison

  “This will take pain away,” he told her, then he clamped his long crooked fingers around her forearm.

  Loren stiffened. A groan – but a good one that made any number of inappropriate thoughts whirl around in Cal’s head – burst from her lips and a shudder passed through her.

  She seemed to fill up, as if she’d been partially deflated and was being restored to her former glory. At the same time, Tullok seemed to shrink. His skin became paler, more gray. His breath came in deep rasps, and…

  “Look at his legs. What’s happening to his legs?” said Miz.

  All eyes went to Tullok’s stumps. Half an inch or so of the flesh and bone of each one was crumbling to ash, burning up like the end of a cigarette.

  “Stop. That’s enough,” Loren urged, trying to pull her arm free. The old man’s grip held firm. Another few layers of skin and sinew wafted off on the breeze, then he unclamped his hand from Loren’s arm.

  “Better?” Tullok coughed, gesturing to Loren’s side. She lifted her vest top to reveal the bruise had gone.

  “Yeah. I feel… I feel great, actually,” said Loren. “But your legs.”

  Mech translated, and Tullok flashed a beaming smile in return.

  “I am old. You are not. It is fair trade, I think.”

  He sagged back against a piece of the hull, his sunken chest heaving in and out.

  “Thank you,” said Loren, taking his hand and squeezing it. He nodded at her, but didn’t speak.

  A clatter from behind Cal made him spin, fists raised. “Waargh!”

  The three Zertex troops Dronzen had sent to pick through the wreckage set a couple of trays fashioned from bits of ship down in front of the others. “This is all we found,” the woman with the skin-complaint announced.

  It was meager pickings. Highlights of the salvage included three blasters, a few tools and the neck of Cal’s guitar, which they’d only picked up because none of them knew what it was. Cal snatched it up and hugged it to his cheek.

  “Oh, my poor baby. Look at you,” he whispered, stifling a sob.

  “Will it still play?” asked Mizette.

  Cal looked at the broken slat of wood. All the strings had snapped off, and three of the metal bits at the end he always thought of as ‘the turny things’ had been sheared in half.

  “Probably not,” he admitted, then he tutted when Mech, Loren and Miz all collectively sighed with relief.

  He gently kissed the fretboard, then tossed the broken neck piece over his shoulder. His eyes fell on something poking up through a spaghetti of wires. “Hey, look!” he chirped, scrabbling across the debris and taking hold of a piece of purple fabric. With a series of heaves and some angry muttering, he pulled the garment free. “It’s one of my shirts.”

  Twirling it over his shoulders, he pulled the shirt on. “How do I look?”

  “Like you just pulled your shirt out of a crash site,” said Miz, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

  Cal looked down at the garment as he buttoned it up. Sure, it was spattered in oil, burned in places, and there was a big hole torn in the back, but it was still a pretty nice shirt. If you ignored the creasing. And the food stains. And the smell.

  “What should we do now?” asked the Zertex woman.

  Cal puffed out his cheeks. “Well... Good question. What should you do now? I’ve got a few ideas.”

  The woman shifted an awkward look in Cal’s direction. “Uh. Sorry. I was asking him.” She pointed at Dronzen.

  “Yeah. I mean, yeah. Of course. Makes sense, you being, you know, all Zertex together and everything,” said Cal. “It’s just, FYI, I’m pretty much in charge. Overall, I mean. Sure, Dronzen can be in charge of you, that’s fine. Just that I’m sort of the main one in charge. Overall.”

  “Oh. Right. Sorry, I didn’t know,” said the woman. “So… what should we do?”

  Cal’s smile remained fixed in place, but his eyes darted ever so slightly left and right, searching for an answer that refused to come.

  “Uh… Dronzen? What do you think?” he asked.

  Dronzen looked to the sky. “Be dark in a few hours,” he said. “We should probably eat.”

  Cal’s smile widened. “Do you know something?” he said. “That is exactly what I was going to say.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The campfire flickered and sputtered, spitting embers into the darkening evening air. Around it, Cal and most of the others munched on an assortment of things Tullok had insisted were fruit, but Cal wasn’t entirely convinced.

  The thing he was eating had a prickly yellow outside, with a dry, husky flesh the color of tar. Fruit, as far he was concerned, should be either pleasingly sweet or refreshingly bitter. The leathery strips he was gnawing on now were neither of these things.

  “Steak sauce,” he announced, mid-chew. “That’s what it tastes like. Steak sauce. But, like, waaay past its date.”

  Still, it was better than squirrel by a large margin, so he didn’t complain too much.

  “You know what I miss?” Cal asked.

  “Earth?” guessed Loren.

  “Everyone you ever knew who’re now all dead?” suggested Miz.

  “Well, those, obviously, yeah,” said Cal. “Spit nibbles. Remember? Narp’s mom? They were amazing.”

  They ate in silence a while longer. Miz sat next to Dronzen, alternating between being mesmerized by him and hypnotized by the elaborate dance of the fire. The Zertex people were grouped together, with Tullok sitting between Loren and Cal. Mech paced around the circle, keeping his sensors peeled for trouble.

  It was Dronzen who asked the question on everyone’s lips. “So. What do we do?”

  Cal had just taken another bite of his steak sauce fruit. He pointed to his mouth to indicate this, and made a show of chewing as fast as he could. Thankfully, this gave him an opportunity to think. His mind raced even faster than his mouth, plotting and strategizing as the fruit slowly turned to mush between his teeth.

  With some difficulty, he swallowed what was left of it.

  “I have no idea,” he admitted. “I thought it’d just be a case of us all piling up to the ship, having a bit of a fight, then storming inside, but we all saw how that worked out.”

  He gestured around them at the forest. “I’d say we should just live here but, you know, fonking space squirrels.”

  “This world is dying,” Tullok announced, taking everyone by surprise. The old man was staring into the fire, wringing his wrinkled hands together as he watched the dancing flames. “Since the great destroyer fell from the skies, the ground shakes. At first, not so much. Now, every day.”

  “He’s right. The quakes have been getting more regular,” said Dronzen. “But I didn’t know they started when we crashed.”

  Cal pointed up to where he knew the vortex would be. “And what about that thing? Is it connected? How long has it been there?”

  Tullok followed Cal’s finger. He joined him in pointing to the swirly space hole.

  “You wish to know of this? Always there. Always. Before my time. Before my people.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” said Cal. He stood up, scattering chunks of yellow husk onto the churned-up soil. “Always there. He’s right. It is always there.”

  Loren followed his finger and saw the vortex. “Yeah. So?”

  “So I mean it’s always there. In that exact spot,” said Cal.

  “What’s it supposed to do? Go flying around?” asked Miz.

  Cal sighed. “No, but I mean - and science isn’t my strong point, so I really hope I’m not the one being an idiot here – it’s evening now. It’ll be night soon. That means the planet’s turning, right? That’s how it works. But the vortex…”

  “Stays in a fixed point in the sky,” said Mech. “Shizz. You’re right.”

  “So?” said Miz. “What does that mean?”

  Dronzen explained. “It means it’s following the planet’s rotation. It is, in fact, flying around, like you said.”

  “Oh, so I w
as right?” said Miz. “Go me.”

  “Which means it has to be connected. The vortex and this planet, I mean. They’re somehow linked,” said Loren.

  “Exactly!” cried Cal. “And that means…?”

  He grinned at everyone, waiting for someone to respond. “That means what?” asked Mech.

  Cal deflated. “I thought one of you might know. It has to mean something, right?”

  “I know what it means,” said Dronzen, capturing everyone’s undivided attention. “It means that if this planet really is dying, there’s a good chance that thing’s going to die, too.”

  One of the Zertex crew piped up. “But if that closes, how can we get home?”

  “We can’t,” said Cal. “But on the bright side, we’ll all be dead, so we won’t really mind.”

  He sat down again, picked up the other half of his fruit, gazed into its black, dry innards, then tossed it over his shoulder. “So, looks like we’re back to Plan A,” he said. “Getting those ships, grabbing Splurt, and getting out of here before it’s too late.”

  “Splurt?” said Loren. “You’re not serious.”

  Cal looked up at her. “Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Uh, maybe because he tried to kill us,” said Miz. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but Splurt isn’t on our side anymore.”

  “He’s part of the crew,” Cal insisted. “We’re not leaving him behind.”

  “What are you talking about?” Loren spat. “He was part of the crew, but that was several years ago, as far as he’s concerned. You saw him. He didn’t even remember us.”

  Cal jumped up. “She tortured him, Loren. He pretended to be me, and so she tortured him. Every day. And he kept pretending. He kept trying to cover for me. For six. Whole. Months.”

  Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the crackle of the campfire. Cal looked at the faces around the fire. Hardly any of them met his gaze. “So if we leave, Splurt leaves. That’s just how it is.”

  He turned back to Loren to find her smiling sadly at him. “I’m sorry, but that thing’s not Splurt, Cal. Not anymore.”

  * * *

  Cal stood at the edge of the clearing, leaning against one of the fat, slug-like trees and gazing vaguely into the darkness that lurked beyond. Night was closing in fast, but despite how little he’d slept over the past few days, Cal was wide awake.

  Another earthquake had rocked the forest a couple of hours previously, bringing down trees and churning up the ground. Afterwards, the woods had fallen into absolute silence for what felt like forever.

  Gradually, the sounds of the forest had returned. Insects now chirruped in the undergrowth. Frogs – or something like them – croaked from the direction of the river. Something honked deeper in the trees. Cal pictured a cross between an owl and a goose, then spent the next few seconds wondering what it would taste like.

  God, he was hungry.

  Footsteps approached from behind. Cal waited until Loren spoke before turning.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “You OK?”

  Cal shrugged. “Yeah. You?”

  Loren nodded. “Fine. Feel great, actually. Whatever Tullok did… Yeah, I feel great.”

  “Good stuff,” said Cal. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Right. Yeah,” said Loren. She pointed with a thumb back towards the fire. “I was thinking of turning in. Mech’s going to keep watch. You should probably get some sleep.”

  “I’m OK,” said Cal. “I’m not tired.”

  “Right. Right,” said Loren. “Well, goodnight, then.”

  She started to turn away, but stopped. “Look, I’m sorry. I know what Splurt meant to you, but… It’s just… I mean, you know what I mean, right?”

  “Oh yeah. Of course,” said Cal. “You’re right. He’s not Splurt anymore. Not our Splurt, anyway. She broke him.” He turned to her and tried his best to switch on a smile. “He’s gone. I have to accept that.”

  Loren nodded slowly. “I wish it were different.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” said Cal, then he jumped when a shape lunged at them out of the shadows.

  “Hey. What’s up?” asked Miz.

  “Christ! My blood pressure, for one thing,” said Cal. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Oh,” said Miz. She shrugged. “Sorry. What you guys talking about?”

  “Splurt,” said Loren.

  “Right. Gotcha. So, anyway, I wanted to talk to you,” said Miz, fixing her deep brown eyes on Cal. “It’s about Dronzen.”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” said Cal.

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely. And I agree. He’s getting a little too big for his boots,” Cal said. “He needs to remember who the captain is around here, am I right?”

  Mizette shifted awkwardly. “Uh, well, actually I was going to say that – and don’t take this too hard – that I kinda like him,” she said. “You know, like like him. And I think maybe he likes me.”

  “Like, like likes you?” Cal asked.

  “Yeah. I think he does,” said Miz. She folded one arm across her midriff and chewed on the thumbnail of the opposite hand. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Cal raised his eyebrows. “Hmm?”

  “Well, I mean, obviously we had a thing between us – and I totally still dig you in a big way, and everything – it’s just… I like him.”

  “You like like him,” said Cal.

  “Exactly,” said Miz. “Do you mind?”

  Cal didn’t know if he minded or not. On the one hand, he wanted to run in circles and cheer that he was no longer the main focus of Mizette’s affection, but on the other hand… it had been quite nice, in a way.

  In the end, he hugged her, almost choking in her fur. “Go get him, Sexy Chewbacca,” he whispered, then he grimaced as she squeezed him tightly in return.

  “Thanks. It means a lot,” said Miz, releasing him and stepping away. She gestured to Loren. “Besides, now you two will be able to… whatever.”

  “Us two?” Cal spluttered. “Ha! What? As if!”

  “I’d rather cut my own hands off!” said Loren.

  “Jesus,” said Cal. “That’s a bit harsh. I’m not that bad, am I?”

  Loren blushed. “What? Well… duh. Yes,” she said, snorting out a half-laugh, then abruptly stopping.

  Mizette looked at them both in turn, then shrugged. “You two are weird,” she said, before turning and loping off towards the camp.

  Cal watched her go. “Think it’ll work out?”

  “What, us?” Loren snorted again. “Ha! As if!”

  “No, them,” said Cal.

  Loren cleared her throat. “Yes. Of course. Uh, I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Cal patted her on the shoulder. “Useful insight. Thanks.”

  “I’m going to go get some sleep,” said Loren, walking away. “Try to get some rest.”

  “I will. Oh, and Loren?”

  Loren stopped and turned.

  “Would you really chop your hands off?”

  Loren’s silhouette hid her half-smile. She shrugged. “One of them, maybe.”

  “Right or left?”

  “Goodnight, Cal,” said Loren. She backed away a couple of paces, then turned and walked away. Cal kept watching her until she vanished behind the glow of the fire.

  “Hey.”

  Cal jumped again as another voice came at him through the darkness. A blinding flashlight shone in his face and he stumbled back, shielding his eyes.

  “Ow! Jesus. Switch it off.”

  “Sorry, man,” said Mech. The light faded to a dull glow, picking out Mech’s chest and face against the gloom. “You OK?”

  “Yes. I’m fine,” said Cal. “Or I was until you blinded me. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “I heard what you said to Loren.”

  “About which hand she’d cut off?” Cal asked.

  “About Splurt,” said Mech. “About how you ain’t gonna try to
get him.”

  “Oh. Right. That,” said Cal.

  “Ain’t true, though, is it?” Mech said. “Ain’t no way you’re not going to sneak off to try to find him.”

  “What? No! That’d be crazy. I mean…” Cal’s voice trailed into silence. “I told him I’d come get him. When he helped us escape Vajazzle’s ship. I told him I’d come back. I promised him.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

  A moment of silence passed between them, before eventually being broken by a cheerful, “Hello!” from Mech’s back.

  Cal jumped in fright again. “Jesus! Will people please stop doing that!” he said. Mech increased the strength of his torchlight enough for Cal to see Tullok’s grinning face over Mech’s shoulder. The old man was hanging onto the cyborg’s shoulders like a backpack.

  “Tullok wants to talk to you,” said Mech.

  “Uh, OK. What about?” Cal asked, then he remembered Tullok could understand him and said, “What do you want to talk about?” to him, instead.

  Then he remembered that Tullok couldn’t understand him at all, and directed the question back to Mech.

  “Fonked if I know. He won’t tell me,” said Mech. He turned side on to Cal, and Tullok scrambled across onto Cal’s back. For an old man with nothing much to speak of in the way of legs, he was surprisingly agile.

  He was also surprisingly heavy. Cal had to lean forwards to stop himself toppling backwards. Tullok extended an arm out ahead of him, pointing into the forest. “This way. Ahead. Yes? Go now.”

  “Uh, right. OK,” said Cal. He shot Mech a quizzical look, but got only a shrug in return.

  “Metal man wait. We go,” Tullok instructed. He bounced on Cal’s back like a jockey in a horse race. “Quick. Quick. Go. Go.”

  “OK, OK, I’m going,” said Cal. He leaned closer to Mech. “But if you hear a scream, you come running.”

  Mech nodded. “I won’t be far away.”

  “You’d better not be,” said Cal, then he hoisted Tullok higher on his back, took a deep breath, and pushed on into the forest.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It took almost fifteen minutes of trudging blindly through the woods before Tullok told Cal to stop. The darkness was absolute, and although they’d walked for quarter of an hour, Cal reckoned that his slow shuffle to avoid tripping over anything meant they couldn’t be more than a few hundred feet from what was left of the Shatner.