by Andy Kasch
Brandon continued his spontaneous performance as he circled the bridge. It was gratifying to think he could still play the flute after all these years, even if the resulting music was typically from a different family of instruments. It didn’t take long to discover a rhythm he liked.
He fell into a dulcet repetition. As he played, he noticed it seemed to have a calming effect on the crew. That was a good thing. Everyone had been on edge. Important decisions were better made without the influence of stress.
The mellow drumbeats of the tupinx took Brandon’s mind off to tranquil places. The Sheen villages he knew, certain camping places he had been with Jumper and Alan, fishing for candeer fish with Derek, Virginia Beach on a sunny spring day before the summer crowds arrived. He thought about Arkan9 living on Milura with the expatriate half-breeds from a dozen other worlds. The last time Brandon saw Arkan9 he was with a special friend, a being surrounded by unapproachable light. A being who also possessed the awesome light weapon half the galaxy now feared and attributed to Tora. But Arkan9’s friend only seemed willing to wield it defensively. Was he an Erob? Five years ago, Brandon was certain he must have been. But the passage of time makes one question former certainties. What was it about intelligent beings that caused them to question a known truth if they hadn’t seen evidence of it lately?
Arkan9 had invited Brandon to come to Milura. It was an open invitation. He wanted Brandon to come. Yes. Brandon would be welcome at Milura, wouldn’t he? The peaceful half-breeds would be there, living simple lives in beautiful villages. Serenity. That’s where Brandon should go. There was tranquility there. Yes. Of course. The subtle melody of the tupinx beat was clearly carrying Brandon off to Milura to spend time with his old friend. Why shouldn’t he go? He might even get to meet an Erob. And wasn’t he close to Milura now? Yes, he was, wasn’t he? Milura. Coming to Milura. There was no reason not to continue there. He was almost there. See Arkan9 again. Smile, sleep, laugh, and be at peace. Why shouldn’t he be going there right now?
Suddenly, a mental image of Arkan9 frowning shook Brandon’s daydream. It was rare to see him frown. Something was wrong, wasn’t it? Yes, there was an object of some sort in the way. An obstacle keeping Brandon from visiting Arkan9. Arkan9 had warned him about it, hadn’t he? What was it? Brandon couldn’t remember now. But there was a breach of peace in the galaxy. Something interfering with the placid drum beats. Some reason Brandon couldn’t relax and laugh with Arkan9 in front of the halcyon arc. It was an …insult? No. An inference? No. An …infection. That was it! There was an infection!
At that moment, the image of Arkan9 frowning became so clear in Brandon’s mind it caused him to drop the tupinx, which clanged on the floor. Brandon looked around in a panic. He was back on the bridge of the Class-3 transport ship. The crew appeared stunned by the sound of the flute dropping, as if they had also been awoken from a dream.
Brandon looked at the front screens. The Azaarian fleet was now moving at them. They were being attacked, and had mere moments to react. How had they all stopped paying attention?
“Captain!” Brandon yelled.
“I see them,” the captain responded. “Where to?”
Milon4 shouted. “Commander! The ITF1! It’s here!”
Brandon spun around and looked at all the screens on the bridge. There was Perry’s vessel, coming from the side.
“The last planet in this system! Captain, plot the dag coordinates to the last planet in this system and align us! Milon4, tell Perry to dag out immediately and meet us there. Captain, as soon as the ITF1 dags out hit it!”
Milon4 and the captain acted fast. But the ITF1 would have to turn around. Those would be precious seconds lost. Brandon looked back to the front screen. They only had seconds. At least five squadrons of fighters and two larger ships were speeding towards them from Azaar. They would be in range any moment.
“Plotted and aligned,” the captain said. “We’re the easiest target, Brandon. Sure you want to wait for the ITF1 to dag out?”
“Message sent,” Milon4 said. “Major Perry has received and acknowledged it, Commander.”
Brandon looked back at the side screen. The ITF1 was starting to turn.
“No, Captain. Go! Now!”
Incoming missiles appeared on the front screen. They quickly grew larger. The front Azaarian fighters fired their lasers. That was the last thing Brandon saw before Azaar, its moons, and the surrounding stars all squished together. The dag had kicked in. They made it out. Barely.
But did Perry?
Chapter Eight
“Well, how was it?” Alan knew he was failing to hide a mischievous smile.
“How was what?”
“Come on, man.”
Jumper shook his head. “You mean Kayla all hyped up on the mineral water, don’t you?”
Alan only responded with a wider grin.
“I’m not going to tell you,” Jumper said. “Take some of the pure stuff home, get yourself a new girlfriend, and give her some of it on the fourth or fifth date. You’ll find out for yourself.”
“All right, be that way. I guess we’re getting too old for those kinds of stories. Extat, you might as well just marry her now.”
Jumper visibly shivered and then stretched as they walked. “I’ll tell you this much. If you do give a girl some of that water, don’t do it after listening to the flute-drums. I was half asleep when we checked into the rooms.”
“Yeah,” Alan said. “Me too. I don’t remember much about last night, actually. Except for a lot of weird dreams.”
The two of them reached the atrium near the city entrance tunnel. Alan looked up. The colorful birds were high in the trees and docile in the morning light being reflected off the rock crystals. It would still be several hours before the sun shone directly through the overhead opening.
“Looks like a good day for climbing,” Alan said.
Jumper looked up and enthusiastically agreed. “The best part is that Kayla now has something to do, so she won’t insist on tagging along. She and Fardo will be teaching Casanova new tricks all day.”
Alan laughed. “Then Fardo has her work cut out. You guys haven’t been able to teach Casanova to do anything since he got big. He just likes tackling people. And now he’s penned with a female cat who’ll have all his attention. If he learns even one new trick, I’ll buy you both dinner when we get home.”
“That’s a deal.”
When they came to the zoo, Alan saw Threeclack and Shaldan in the pen even before he saw Kayla, Fardo, and the two big cats.
“Looks like we’re the only late sleepers, Jumper.”
Alan and Jumper made their way back to the gate. The guard let them in instantly. He was smiling today, and appeared to be enjoying the show.
“That cat of yours may be intimidating,” the guard said as he closed the gate behind them, “but he’s one stubborn animal. Won’t listen to the trainer, or even your friend there. Only wants to follow the girl cat around.”
“Told you,” Alan said to Jumper. They joined Threeclack and Shaldan and stood in observation.
Kayla managed to make Casanova sit, which was an admirable accomplishment. You could tell he didn’t want to. The fact that Kayla could command him at all was impressive.
Fardo had Kush sitting down as well. Kush was well-trained and obeyed Fardo despite the distraction of Casanova. No doubt the two cats were getting along well and had just spent an enjoyable night together. Casanova looked as though he didn’t want to be separated from Kush. He kept leaning in her direction, sometimes scooting from the spot Kayla had him in.
Fardo held a small device of some sort. She pressed a button and what looked to be a target sprang up out of the ground ten meters away. It was a dummy—a vague humanoid form that Alan’s parents would probably call a scarecrow. Kush looked at the target but had no visible reaction. Fardo pushed another button and the dummy sank back into the ground.
Another dummy popped up a short distance away, exactly like the f
irst one. It remained for a few seconds and then sank down again. Still no reaction from Kush.
A third came up. It was in the same spot as the first dummy, but this one was slightly different. It held an object in its hand. Kush reacted this time. Her ears bent backwards and she slunk forward in an attack pose. Casanova noticed her change in stance and also hunched down, looking at the last dummy with some concern.
The dummy then raised the arm holding the object. Kush crouched lower in response, poised to charge. She had obviously been taught that humanoid figures raising a handheld object were a threat.
Fardo suddenly shouted: “Wasah!”
Kush leapt into action and bounded across the pen. As she did, beams of light emitted from the object in the dummy’s hand, striking the ground in various places. Kush avoided the light beams and was on the dummy in seconds.
Jumper whistled. “That laviel is one fast animal.”
They watched as the dummy was torn to pieces.
“Strong, too,” Alan added.
Shaldan spoke. “I’m sure glad your cat is trained to tackle in a little friendlier manner than that.” He rubbed his shoulder.
“How is your thorn wound today?” Threeclack asked him.
“Gone,” Shaldan replied. “No pain at all. I think I only reached for it as an involuntary reaction after watching the laviel dismember the dummy.”
“Casanova wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Jumper said.
“Neither would Kush,” Fardo interrupted, walking up to the group after overhearing Jumper. “Unless she gets the specific attack command in a situation where a weapon is present. Both must happen. She must perceive a weapon being raised, and she must hear the attack command. I think we can train Casanova to do the same.”
Alan and Jumper looked at Casanova, who seemed agitated after witnessing Kush’s attack. He was walking in circles and whimpering softly. Kush trotted over to him and licked his face. They both then meandered back to the shredded dummy and sniffed about it.
“That would ruin him,” Jumper said. “We use him in our war games back home because we know he won’t hurt anyone. And he likes the games.”
“I want him to learn,” Kayla said walking over. “Casanova should be useful for something other than games. And I’ve been wanting to take him out of the exercises anyway. This is an inspiring presentation, don’t you think, honey? We might be able to put some other kind of a show on with him.”
“No,” Jumper said. “I don’t like the idea.”
“If we teach him the attack command, he’ll only attack when the command is given,” Fardo said. “But it’s up to you. We can teach him other tricks instead. Like balancing on a big ball.”
Alan laughed. Jumper shot him a scowl.
“We’ll teach him all the tricks,” Kayla said. “You guys can go off exploring today, like you wanted to.” She turned and started jogging towards the cats.
Jumper opened his mouth as if to shout an objection, but then stopped when he seemed to realize what Kayla had just said.
“Would you like to explore more of our city?” Threeclack asked.
Jumper turned to Threeclack. “Actually, we were thinking about exploring the top of your city, from the outside.”
Threeclack looked down at Jumper and Alan’s feet.
“You wish to climb on the rocks? What type of footwear do you have?”
“These are gravity shoes,” Alan said. “We wore them on this trip so we wouldn’t have to waste time acclimating to a different gravity. They adjust automatically, so we feel the same as we do on our home world.” As he spoke his shoes recalibrated, the red lights blinking in sequence around the perimeter of his ankle.
“I see,” Threeclack said. “Very practical. But I think you should allow us to fit you with elevation boots for rock climbing, for your own safety.”
“Would those keep us from falling?” Jumper asked.
“Yes, assuming you use them correctly. I can instruct you.”
Jumper shook his head. “That would defeat the purpose. For us, the perceived danger in rock climbing is part of what makes it fun. We’re both experienced climbers, so shouldn’t have any troubles.”
“On the other hand,” Alan interjected, “testing a pair of anti-gravity boots on a cliff side sounds like fun, too. Maybe we could throw a pair in the pack to take with us.”
“Certainly,” Threeclack said. “As you wish. The weather here should be stable for the next several days. If you care to follow me, I can take you to an equipment provider.”
Alan looked at Shaldan. “Coming with us?”
“Rock climbing?”
“Yes. Up to that large bird’s lair, hopefully. You can get a closer look at it.”
Shaldan’s eyes widened. “Yes, I’ll come. Thanks.”
Alan, Jumper, and Shaldan followed Threeclack out of the zoo and through some of the winding city streets. They didn’t go through any tunnels this time, but Alan could tell they were getting close to the civic arena as the drum circle sounds came back into earshot.
“Threeclack, what is it about those flute-drums that is so tranquilizing?” Alan asked. “We sat there for hours last night, nearly forgetting where we were. I have only the faintest memory of you taking us to our rooms. Or am I just suffering from space lag?”
“I was wondering that myself,” Shaldan said. “And I don’t suffer from space lag. Those instruments are alluring. They might make a good trade item, as they seem to be addicting. Too bad you don’t have a surplus of production.”
“No,” Threeclack said. “No surplus at all. I did, however, exhort my influence in an attempt to procure three of them for you, as a gift. It wasn’t easy, and I’m afraid if we don’t act quickly they’ll be reallocated. Thanks for reminding me. We should stop by the distribution center to get them now. It’s on the way.”
“Cool,” Jumper said. “I’d like to try and play that thing. We can stick them in the pack and take them up the rocks with us.”
Something told Alan that idea might be dangerous, but he didn’t voice the thought. He didn’t want to sound paranoid or unappreciative. And the idea of playing the tupinx appealed to him as well. But it might be a better idea to do it on the ground.
They came to a large shop underneath a hover tram stop. Inside, there were strange objects of different types on display, and also some that were more familiar-looking. Natives were milling about in the store, some of whom were doing various things to the objects. Different musical sounds filled the room. Alan realized they were in a Sulien music store.
Threeclack walked up to one of the counters. It was carved out from the natural rock. Alan followed him there. The native behind the counter saw Threeclack and reached for something under it. He then presented three tupinx and politely smiled towards Alan, Jumper, and Shaldan.
“As requested,” he said to Threeclack. “Not as difficult as I anticipated. We have extra today.” He pointed to a shelf behind the counter where eight or nine additional tupinx lay.
“Extra?” Threeclack said. “Never heard of extra tupinx. There’s a long waiting list for these. How is it you have extra?”
The native behind the counter shrugged. “The factory delivered three more than projected, we’ve had several orders cancel, and two have been returned. This is the first day we haven’t expanded the waiting list. I’m sensing an ease in demand, so I’ve reduced our order with the factory. Don’t want to get stuck with too many if the fad suddenly stops.”
“Interesting,” Threeclack said. “Thanks.” He picked up the three instruments. Alan, Jumper, and Shaldan followed him back outside the store, where they each received their tupinx.
Alan examined his. It was solid and had a nice feel to it, despite the awkwardly-placed black box at the end of the tube. The key holes were closer together than what would have been optimal for human fingers, but looked to be perfect for the smaller hands of the Sulienites. Alan lifted it to his mouth and placed his fingers over the holes. As he did, he notic
ed Shaldan and Jumper were both already attempting to play theirs.
Jumper was the first to successfully draw a sound from it. Nothing too special, just a subdued knocking. A few minutes later he managed to get a slightly different tone. Shortly, Shaldan’s tupinx joined in with its first sound. By that time, Jumper was rotating through several beats. Alan was still trying to figure out how to get some noise out of the thing, and beginning to get frustrated.
But then he found the right mouth position to blow from. The resulting drumbeat was delightful, at least to his own ears. The three of them were now producing percussion notes, if not yet coordinating them into music. The lure to learn the instrument better and harmonize their beats was strong. In the background was the rhythmic beat from the drum circle at the nearby civic arena. It too requested conformity.
“Let’s move to the arena if you’re going to play these now,” Threeclack said. “We discourage individual street performances.”
Alan wanted to tell him no, that they weren’t going to play these now, that they only wanted to get the elevation boots and go rock climbing. But darn it, he was starting to blow on the instrument the right way. He could now get several different beats from it. He just needed a little more practice and he would have it down. Jumper would have to tell Threeclack to take them to the shoe store.
None of them said anything. The three of them all kept the tupinx to their lips and followed Threeclack to the open arena. Most of the natives playing were sitting at the higher levels. Alan, Jumper, and Shaldan sat down on the bottom steps. They still had a bit of a learning curve if their music was to come together and then blend in with the rest of the drum circle.
“Strange,” Threeclack said as he surveyed the arena. “Not as many here today.” He looked down, reached to the steps, and picked up an object. It was a tupinx. “And someone left their instrument here unattended. I’ve never seen that before.”