Alien Shadows

by Daniel Arenson

  "But I am an astrony mare!" Romy said. "I have a diploma!"

  She raised a framed diploma. Below the words Doctorate in Astronomy, somebody had crossed out the name Lenora Rosetta with a crayon, replacing it with a scribbled and misspelled ROMI.

  Riff pointed at the door. "Out."

  "But I can help!" The demon stamped her feet. "I'm not only a scientician. I'm also a torturer, Riff. A real torturer. From Hell!" Her tail wagged. "I used to torture the souls of sinners. I was good at it. Real good. How they screamed!"

  Riff and Steel stared at the demon. Romy waved back. It was hard to imagine Romy torturing anyone. With her goofy grin, slipping glasses, and wagging tail, Romy looked no more intimidating than a shih tzu. Yet she did have sharp claws. Her hair was woven of fire. And her mouth did sprout fangs that could tear through metal; Riff had seen the marks they left in the Dragon Huntress's engines. Could the demon be speaking truth?

  "Romy, Hell doesn't even exist," Riff said. "You're talking rubbish."

  "Oh yeah? If Hell doesn't exist, then how am I a demon? Huh? Huh? I ain't no alien. I torture aliens!" She growled. "Oh please, sir. Please let me torture him. I promise I'll be really good at it, just like I tortured sinners in Hell. I'll get you all the information you need. Please please please please please—"

  "Fine!" Riff said.

  "Please please please please—"

  "I said fine!"

  Steel frowned. "Brother, are you sure?"

  "No." Riff sighed. "But we're not having any luck on our own. And if we don't let Romy try, she'll just keep begging. Maybe if we're lucky, she'll annoy the demon to death."

  Romy nodded. "Good. Now out, both of you! Go outside. This will get ugly."

  The demon removed her glasses and doffed her lab coat. Suddenly she changed. Her smile turned wicked, and she licked her lips. Her burning hair crackled, and more fire burned in her eyes. She twisted her claws, and tongues of flame raced across her body. She raised her pitchfork, and the prongs spurted out fire.

  Riff felt the blood drain from his face. For the first time since he'd known her, Romy seemed like a true demon from Hell—delighting in her wickedness and utterly evil.

  Steel and Riff stepped out of the lab into the hallway and closed the door behind them. Red firelight beamed under the door . . . and the screams began.

  * * * * *

  Riff and Steel waited outside, pacing the hall. The ghost's screams, curses, and howls filled the observatory. Riff could barely stand the sound.

  Finally the screams died.

  The lab door opened, releasing puffs of smoke.

  Romy stepped out, tail wagging.

  "Done," she said.

  Riff and Steel glanced at each other, then back at the demon.

  "And?" Riff asked.

  Romy yawned. "And I'm tired. Think I'll have a nap. And a bath. Any baths around here? Oh, and do they have poodles in this observatory?"

  "Romy!" Riff grabbed her. "Damn it, did the creature talk?"

  She frowned. "What creature? Piston? Now now, Riff, he might be a gruffle after all, but calling him a creature is—"

  "The ghost!" Riff shook her. "For pity's sake."

  "Oh . . . that creature." Romy frowned. "He's not a ghost, Riff. He's a shade. He told me!"

  "So he talked," Steel said, eyes dark. "The torture broke him."

  Romy nodded. "I told you I'm good. He talked. Told me lots and lots of interesting things. Oh, those crazy things he said! So many marvelous things. Things you—"

  "Tell us!" Riff said.

  The demon poked his chest. "So impatient! Fine. I'll have a bath later. Anyway, they're shades. Aliens! You know why they look like ghosts? Because they're four dimensional aliens. He explained it. See, some creatures are like snakes. Just a line. One dimensional. Other creatures are like flatfish, those flat little things that lie on the ocean floor. Two dimensional. Most creatures are like me. Three dimensional. Sometimes too three dimensional, especially after too many donuts." The demon glanced over her shoulder at her backside, then back at Riff. "Anyway, these creatures are four dimensional. But we can't see their four dimensional side. We only see what three dimensions let us see."

  Riff frowned. "What does the fourth dimension even look like?"

  Romy shrugged. "I dunno. Never saw it. But imagine you met a flatfish. And the flatfish always lived in a very flat world, and all he could see was flat slices. If you suddenly appeared in two dimensions, the people in flatfish-land would only see bits and pieces of you. Sort of like if I chopped you up like a ham, slice by slice. The flatfish would never see the full you, just the two dimensional slices, one at a time as you passed through their world. That's why the shades keep changing shapes and looking all weird. We're always losing that fourth dimensional bit of them. We're just seeing three-dimensional slices. If you visited their world, you'd finally see what they really look like. Which I don't think is very pleasant at all." Romy licked her lips. "I'm suddenly hungry for ham. Anyone got a ham around?"

  Riff thought back to Nova's words. Remember the tesseract, stupid.

  "Nova tried to tell me," he said. "A tesseract is a four-dimensional cube. She knew somehow." He grabbed the demon. "Romy, did the shade say anything about Nova and Twig?"

  "Oh yes, he did. Said he's got them in a cage. And a few other people too. And that they'll never, ever release the prisoners, not ever. Not even if I kept torturing him."

  Steel tilted his head. "Romy, I don't see blood on your claws or pitchfork." The knight squinted. "How did you get this information? How did you torture it?"

  Romy grinned. "The usual way! I played my accordion." The demon reached behind her back and whipped out a large, red accordion. "Want to hear?"

  "No!" the brothers said.

  But the demon was already playing. Riff cringed and Steel covered his ears. The sounds were horrible. It sounded like an army of dying cats, or perhaps mating cats, or perhaps cats dying while mating.

  "Enough, foul demon!" Steel said.

  "See?" Romy lowered her accordion. "It works every time. I always tortured prisoners in Hell this way. For starters. Oh, it got worse, Starfires. Much worse. After I played the accordion, I made the shade smell my stinky socks. And I gave it a good, solid wet willy. Oh, and an Indian burn. That really did the trick. But it wasn't until I showed him photos of our vacation to planet Kitika that he really spilled the beans. Nothing like a good reel of holiday slides to get people talking."

  Riff groaned, not sure that he believed the demon, not sure that he cared.

  "All right," he said. "Good. We know more. We know a little about them. And . . ." His voice choked. "We know that Nova and Twig are alive. Did the shade say anything else, Romy?"

  The demon shook her head. "Nah. Nothing else interesting. Just that . . . well, something about a thousand of his friends on the way over here."

  Steel hissed and drew his sword. Riff grabbed his gun.

  "And you didn't think that interesting?"

  Romy yawned. "Boring! They won't be here for another full hour. Well . . . probably more like half an hour now, what with us all talking here." She stretched. "I'm going to look for that bath. And a ham to eat while bathing. Call me when the ghost army is here!"

  The demon wandered off. Riff and Steel looked at each other, then burst into a run.

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  REMEMBER THE TESSERACT

  Nova's whip slammed into the bars, again and again, leaving trails of light. The cage flared out around her, cubes attached to cubes, a tesseract in four dimensions. It spun Nova's head, and her mind refused to comprehend what she saw, but she still knew how to lash her whip, and she kept slamming it against the bars.

  Finally the metal shattered.

  Nova snarled. She turned toward Twig and grinned savagely.

  "Ready to fly with me, little one?"

  The halfling nodded and doffed her jet pack. "We have only one of these. You take it and hold me." She smiled tremulously. "I'm onl
y half your size, after all."

  Nova nodded, slung the jet pack across her back, and lifted Twig. She held the halfling under her left arm, and she gripped her whip with her right hand.

  "Ready?" Nova asked.

  Twig nodded. "Let's rock and/or roll."

  "For fire and venom!" Nova cried, the ancient words of her people . . . and leaped out of the cage.

  Her jet pack roared out fire. Ashai and halfling blasted out into the sky.

  The four dimensions of Yurei roiled around them. Nova's head spun. The land swirled. The ground wasn't flat but rose in endless spheres. The sky folded in onto itself countless times. When Nova glanced behind her, she saw fresh reflections spread out like cards—herself jumping out of the cage, whipping the cage, being dragged into the cage. She stared ahead and saw her future there . . . saw the shades attacking.

  "Twig!" Nova cried.

  "I see them!"

  The towering, shadowy creatures loomed ahead. Each was thrice Nova's size, flying through the air. Black robes fluttered across them, their hems burnt. Their eyes blazed red, and their claws reached out, bone-white. In four dimensions, she could see their wrath, their terror. Her mind still could not fully grasp them—they flared out into the fourth dimension, a shape that spun her mind, a mind used to a three-dimensional world. But she saw their malice. She saw their bloodlust.

  Jetpack roaring, Nova screamed and flashed her whip.

  "For fire and venom!"

  Ahead of her, her reflections exploded, flaring out into a hundred directions. In some paths, translucent slides showed Nova torn apart, the shades clawing her, feasting upon her flesh, tossing her bones down to the ground. In other directions, the beasts caught her, dragged her into her cage. In yet another path, she slew them, but Twig died with showering blood and screams.

  Even here, the fourth dimensions could be bent, Nova realized. Even here, destiny was not written in stone. Whatever they were doing here was shaking time itself.

  Then the shades reached her, and all Nova knew was the fire of war.

  "For Ashmar!" she cried, whip lashing, casting out sparks of electricity.

  "For the Alien Hunters!" Twig cried out and tossed her wrench.

  The shades screamed. Nova's whip slammed into one, burning its charcoal flesh. Twig's electric wrench crashed into another beast, then boomeranged back into the halfling's hand. The flames roared and spread, soon engulfing the alien.

  The aliens shrieked and thrust forward. Nova screamed as claws lashed against her, raising sparks along her armor. Twig howled as claws tore at her arm. One shade clawed at the jet pack, and the fire died. Nova plummeted down, tugged the cord again, and blasted out more flame. They shot forward.

  "Keep flying, Nova!" Twig shouted, held in her grip. "Make to the starship! To the Drake!"

  More shades flew toward them. The creatures were massive, large as black mares, but they flew with the lightness and speed of wasps. Nova swung her whip, forcing them back, casting out her sparks. Twig kept tossing her wrench. The electric weapon slammed into shades, then flew back into Twig's waiting grasp, leaving a trail of reflections.

  We might be stuck inside a black hole, our past and future spreading around us like a deck of tarots, Nova thought. But damn it, we can still hunt aliens.

  Her whip lashed again, cutting the creatures down, and Nova laughed as she fought. With a shower of electricity, the ashai and halfling tore through the enemies, gliding toward the Drake.

  The dagger-shaped starship lay on the rocky surface of the Dark Planet. Several shades floated around it, robed and hooded. The aliens stared up, eyes burning like red lanterns, and raised black hilts. Crimson fire blazed out, forming crackling blades.

  "Come to die, ones of three," they hissed.

  Twig cried out, her voice high-pitched but full of rage. The halfling fired lightning from her wrench. Holding Twig under one arm, Nova blasted down toward the enemy. Her whip lashed, casting a lightning bolt into another creature. Ashai and halfling landed on the rocky surface before the starship, snarling.

  The shades charged toward them, fiery blades crackling through the air, showering sparks.

  "For the Alien Hunters," Nova whispered.

  One fireblade swung toward Nova. She lashed her whip and cut through the fire. As the alien leaped toward her, she ducked, ran, and leaped up. Her whip swung again, slicing through the creatures, scattering chunks of their flesh. The aliens roiled all around her. She fought within an endless stream of them, a sea of burning eyes, lashing claws, snapping teeth, creatures that spread all around, behind her, above her, in her past, in her future. She cried in rage and kept tearing them down.

  Twig fought at her side. The mini-mechanic leaped through the air, somersaulted, and tossed her wrench. Her eyes burned like blue fires. Her electricity crackled, kindling the enemy's robes. A fireblade grazed the halfling, burning strands of her hair and leaving a line on her cheek, but still Twig fought, carving a path toward the Drake.

  The ship was the only thing here that still made sense to Nova's mind, a three-dimensional object in a world of four dimensions. She leaped toward it, cut another shade down, and yanked the door open.

  "Twig, with me!"

  The halfling tossed her wrench. It flew, knocked down a shade, and boomeranged back into Twig's hand. She leaped into the starship with Nova. The two landed inside the airlock and slammed the door shut behind them.

  The door rattled. The hull dented. The ship rocked. The shades were slamming against it, biting, clawing.

  "With me, Twig! Help me find the bridge."

  They ran together through the ship. The Drake was long, narrow, and dark, a blade with wings. The ship rocked madly as they ran. Dents kept appearing on the hull. Through the portholes, Nova saw fireblades slamming against the metal, chipping it away. She and Twig kept running toward the nose of the ship.

  "Nova, watch out!" Twig cried.

  Nova hissed. A round creature leaped up, a massive mouth that flared out into multiple jaws, a rolling ball of teeth connected by black tendons. Nova swung her whip, tearing through it, scattering teeth and jawbones. They kept running. Another creature rolled through the fuselage, leaped up, and flew toward them. It was vaguely canine, sprouting a dozen drooling heads. Twig blasted forth lightning, knocking it down.

  "Shade pets," Twig muttered. "Ugly bastards."

  "Not too ugly," Nova said, cutting down another beast. "You should see Earth's Chihuahuas."

  "I like Chihuahuas!" Twig said.

  Nova groaned. "You would."

  The ship shook madly as a fireblade tore into the hull before them. Nova lashed her whip through the rent, cutting down the alien outside. Twig whipped out duct tape and sealed the breach, and the two kept running. They burst through a doorway and onto the bridge.

  A windshield afforded a view of swirling, four-dimensional rocks and hills. Between them, in the distance, Nova could see planet Kaperosa floating in space, stretched across time, its reflections forming a ring. Two leather seats faced control panels.

  Between the seats lurked a massive, smoky serpent.

  The python rose, fractured into many coiling creatures, a four-dimensional hydra with multiple heads. All those heads now hissed and thrust toward Nova and Twig.

  Behind them, the ship screeched as fireblades kept cutting at the hull.

  "Twig, know how to fly?" Nova shouted, leaping back as a serpent's head thrust toward her.

  Twig ducked beneath another striking snake head. "In theory."

  "Good enough! Fly us! Now! I'll take care of the snakes."

  Twig spurted electricity from her wrench, roasting one serpent head, and nodded. The halfling somersaulted through the air, landed in a seat, and pushed down on the throttle.

  The Drake's engines roared.

  The ship bolted forward.

  The serpent's heads drove toward Nova, fangs dripping venom.

  As the Drake rose into the sky, Nova swung her whip. Electricity filled the ca
bin. The lash tore through one serpent's head, cauterizing the wound. The ship rocked madly, spurting out flame, soaring and tilting. Through the windshield, Nova saw the four-dimensional Dark Planet spinning all around, a jumble of land, sky, and stars multiplied and spreading into all directions. It felt like flying through a funhouse full of mirrors.

  "I can't see where I'm going!" Twig cried, tugging at a joystick.

  "Focus on Kaperosa." Nova pointed at the planet ahead. "Keep staring at it and fly!"

  The serpent heads screeched and thrust back toward her. Nova ducked and rolled. Her lash flew again, slicing off another head. Two severed heads now snapped their jaws on the floor, dragging themselves closer to her. Nova kicked one aside, cracked her whip, and severed a third head.

  "Enemy ships ahead!" Twig said.

  Nova glanced out the windshield to see black, impossible ships—they were shaped as tesseracts—flying toward them.

  "Fire!" Nova shouted.

  "How?"

  "The red button! Do it! Shoot them down!"

  Twig hit the controls. Photons blasted from the Drake's starboard cannon, streamed through space, and slammed into the enemy ships.

  With just as much force, the serpent slammed into Nova. She fell to the floor. The scaly creature coiled around her, constricting her. Nova's hand clutched the whip's hilt, but with her arms pinned to her sides, she could not lash it. She floundered, unable to free herself.

  "Nova!" Twig cried, turning toward her.

  "I'm fine, keep flying!"

  Twig returned her gaze forward, and she fired more photons at the enemy ships. Nova writhed on the floor. The snake heads struck, and fangs slammed into her armor, unable to pierce it. The serpent wrapped tighter around her. It perhaps could not pierce Nova's armor, but it could crush her within it.

  Nova could not lash her whip, but she could still switch it on.

  She clicked the switch on the handle.

  Electricity raced through her.

  Nova flailed like a fish, screaming. The electricity bolted through her and into the serpent. The creature squealed and released her.