Dragonstar Destiny

by David Bischoff

  It roared with pain.

  Kemp knew that he’d need both hands to scrabble up the incline and he didn’t have time to sling his rifle around his shoulder. As much as he hated doing it, he had to: he hurled it behind him. The rifle struck the ’tops in its beak-like maw. Instinctively the thing grabbed it and snapped it in half with its mouth. Then it lunged up the slope toward Kemp.

  The ground seemed to shake, and Kemp could swear he felt the creature’s breath at the back of his neck.

  From somewhere Kemp called on hidden reserves, and somehow his feet kept their purchase as he scrambled up the hill.

  Then, with a terrible roar of frustration, the triceratops lost its footing. One limb went out from the other and the thing tumbled down the incline to land in a great heap at the bottom, struggling to right itself.

  Breathing harshly from the exertion, Kemp flopped over the edge of the ridge, then crawled up toward where Becky kneeled, just as exhausted as he.

  They breathed in silence for a moment, relishing those breaths.

  Then Kemp said, “Come on. Time to march. No time to lose, we’ve got to get back to the camp, dinosaurs or no dinosaurs.”

  Becky Thalberg nodded grimly, too exhausted emotionally and physically to object.

  They struck out for the base.

  * * *

  They marched for some time in silence.

  After a short rest and two pulls from the canteen of water, however, once they were on their way again, they found that they were able to talk.

  “I ... I just feel terrible about Kate, Phineas,” said Becky. “I know I was always very sarcastic about her, and on some levels I guess I was sort of jealous of her, But I did like her.” She paused for thought. “Well, I didn’t want her dead. I know you were fond of her.”

  Kemp marched onward stolidly for a few moments, then answered. “We’ve none of us any kind of guarantee on life in this place, Becky. That could have been you back there, it could have been me. I really don’t think we have the luxury to feel grief ... We’re too close to our own coming to grief for that, I think.”

  “Phineas, I’ve never heard you talk like that,” said Becky, wiping away a sheen of sweat from her forehead. “It’s not like you at all.”

  “I guess you can take this kind of thing only so long as a Mr. Positive,” Kemp answered.

  “You’re not feeling grief, then?”

  “I think I’m too numb for that, Becky. Maybe you’d better ask me tomorrow. If there is a tomorrow.”

  “You’re still marching hard, Phineas. You haven’t given up,” she said, looking out at the stretch of primeval field ahead of them. “I wouldn’t listen to yourself if I were you. I think you’d better just listen to the old Phineas Kemp. The one that nothing can stop when he gets a goal in mind.”

  “Oh. You mean the asshole?” Kemp muttered cynically.

  “Phineas, I’d rather have a lovable asshole around than a dead cynic.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you cared so much, Becky.”

  “Oh, I do, Phineas. Now I want to thank you for snapping me out of it back there. I suppose it was a low method, but it worked.”

  “Something beneath Mr. Coopersmith?”

  “No. Ian would have done the same thing if it was necessary for survival. Apologies are much easier than burial prayers.”

  “Well, then, I suppose I should apologize, shouldn’t I?” Kemp took a deep breath and looked out at the curving landscape ahead of them. “Ian Coopersmith was quite a man, Becky. Despite my obvious jealousy—which I admit to—I always respected the man. Perhaps even envied him. I’m sorry about all the things I’ve said against him. And I can certainly understand why you loved him—and love him even now, I suppose.”

  Becky was taken aback by his words, Kemp could see.

  Then her eyes hardened a bit. “Phineas. Is this a ploy?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re just getting into my good graces, aren’t you? This isn’t Colonel Phineas T. Kemp I’m listening to. It’s some other person.”

  “You think I’m trying to make time with you? Get on your good side for romantic purposes?” Kemp shook his head with disbelief. “Woman, you’ve got a defense system to rival a battleship! I’m telling you the truth!”

  She softened. “I’m sorry, Phineas. I guess ... well, I guess I have gotten defensive. Thanks for those words. I do appreciate them. I suppose I do still love Ian Coopersmith, yes. But Ian would tell me to keep on, to survive ... I can almost hear him now ...” She looked at Kemp in a funny way. “And to think, Phineas, here we are. Isn’t it ironic? Before, Ian and I were stranded out here. Now it’s you and I.”

  “But you and Coopersmith, you survived, didn’t you? It must have seemed very dark ... very. dark indeed, those days.”

  “Well, yes, and I certainly couldn’t have made it without Ian,” said Becky. “But I’ll tell you something, Phineas, something I’ve never admitted to you. I don’t think that either Ian or I could have survived if we didn’t know that you were still out there, somewhere, working like an asshole maniac as you usually work, to rescue us.”

  Kemp raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Gospel, Phineas.”

  “I’m touched.”

  “The problem now, though, is that there’s no Phineas T. Kemp out there, trying to get us out. Just a bunch of mad aliens.”

  Kemp mused on this awhile as they walked.

  “I never knew you looked at me that way, Becky,” he said finally.

  “I suppose, for my sins, it’s one of the reasons I loved you the way I did,” she said, staring straight ahead as she spoke. “For all your deadheadedness, Phineas. I suppose I loved those qualities in you. In many ways, they are what moved Western civilization to where it is now. Pluck, pragmatism, plus an unhealthy amount of ambition. You may be an asshole at times, I guess, but that’s just you. And I think you’ve grown.” She shrugged. “Oh well, it all seems so unimportant now, up against all of this.” She gestured out to the expanse of wildness.

  “It is important,” said Kemp. “It’s helpful, Becky. Thank you. It means a lot to me lately. I guess ... I guess I’ve been very confused about where I stand with the opposite sex. I guess I’ve always been confused.”

  “Oh, you mean you and Mikaela ... And Kate, right?”

  “That’s right. I mean, it seems silly in the middle of the struggle to survive, but I was honestly getting confused.”

  “Do you think it could possibly have something to do with some weird kind of instincts coming into play in the situation we’re in?” suggested Becky. “Kate was after you, you know ... You could smell the scent she was giving off. Could be an ancient survival mechanism in her, the need for the security of a Protecting Male.” She chuckled. “And you, Phineas Kemp, sure try to manufacture that particular pheromone.”

  “I don’t succeed?”

  “Clearly you succeeded with Kate. But it’s all unconscious ... I’m not saying you tried to do it on purpose, Phineas. I’m just saying that there are interpersonal dynamics that have been occurring in our group that could be just as scientifically fascinating in their own way as the Dragonstar itself.”

  Kemp snorted derisively. “Sounds more interesting to a bunch of soap-opera viewers, maybe.”

  “Hey, Phineas, you’ve been selling soap for years. Didn’t you know that?”

  “What?”

  “And who do you think was sponsoring your wonderful worldwide broadcast, the glorious Day of the Dragonstar? The United Fund for Overblown Egos?”

  Kemp smiled. “Okay, touché. I was just busy trying to deflate the old ego. As though reality hasn’t done plenty to help me out lately!”

  They continued marching along, talking occasionally in this bantering manner to keep their spirits up.

  “I’m getting
déjà vu,” said Becky. “This is just the way that Ian and I talked when we were stranded in here. Of course, you don’t have a charming British accent.”

  “Nor his kind of wit, I suppose. I guess I never sat around much thinking up jokes.”

  “How far do you estimate the base is, Phineas?”

  “A few klicks, Becky, I don’t know if we’re going to make it by darkfall.”

  “We’ll have to try, won’t we?”

  Kemp smiled. “That’s the spirit ... old girl!”

  Becky laughed.

  They were approaching another series of hills bordered by outcroppings of rocks.

  Kemp looked around, his brow furrowing with thought. “Isn’t this the place where Doc Jakes was getting those odd radiation readings?” he said to himself more than to Becky. “Yes ... and this was the place where that strange thing happened to Lieutenant Linden ...”

  “The guy with the cocoon ... We’ve quite forgotten all about him ... Just too much to take, Phineas. Overload time.”

  They walked past some large rocks, meaning to skirt them and then strike out toward the base in the direction that Kemp judged to be correct.

  Suddenly a voice called out from the rocks.

  “Poor Colonel Kemp,” it said. It was a male voice ... but it sounded deeper, garbled somehow. “I suppose you’re trying to head back to the base camp. But you’re going the wrong way.”

  Becky and Kemp stopped in their tracks.

  “Who’s that?” Kemp demanded, drawing out his gun.

  Becky clicked off her safety.

  “You’re quite right, though,” said the voice. “I’ve been listening to you, you know. This is the place where Dr. Jakes sent me.”

  Kemp blinked.

  “Linden? Timothy Linden? Come out, man, and show yourself!”

  “That’s right, Colonel Kemp. Timothy Linden.”

  “But you were secured back at the camp,” said Kemp.

  “That’s correct as well. I was able, fortunately, to break my bonds. But there is much to talk about, Colonel Kemp. Much indeed.”

  A figure stepped out from the rocks just twenty meters away.

  Becky gasped. “You’re not Timothy Linden!”

  “That,” said the creature, “is quite true. No, I am what Timothy Linden has become.”

  The creature walked toward them.

  THEY ALL stared at the image of the face in the screen, stunned.

  “What did it say?” Mikaela Lindstrom finally said.

  “Just what you heard,” said Barkham, grinning. “Well, the same to you, lizard face.”

  Barkham’s description was not quite accurate. The huge face that swam before them could have once been reptilian, but there was enough change in bone structure and eyes and coloring—no snout, for instance—that the thing was far more alien-looking than reptilian.

  “Greetings,” said Mishima Takamura, stepping forward. “But I fear you have the wrong use of that particular word. The word ‘fuck’ has sexual and often violent and certainly aggressive connotations.”

  The creature seemed to think on this a moment.

  “Ah,” its voice came through the speakers again. “I confuse my own meaning. I wished you much fulfilling pleasure. Please excuse me.”

  Mikaela was very excited. “We’re talking to it! We’re actually communicating with a space-faring alien race!”

  “An interesting form of first verbal contact,” said Dr. Jakes with a bemused expression.

  “A famous science fiction story had the first alien transmission of communications as a dirty joke,” said Barkham. “”I guess it all gets down to sex eventually from star to shining star.”

  “Thank you,” said Takamura, taking on the role of group spokesperson. “We appreciate your efforts and your wishes. Why are you holding us prisoners, though?”

  “Damned good question,” echoed Barkham.

  It took a moment for the alien to assimilate that. “We keep you in the room for your own safety ... and ours. Time was needed to analyze your thinking mechanisms and language sufficiently for adequate communication. Now we can communicate. We can explain much to each other.”

  “I am Mishima Takamura,” said Mishima. He was about to introduce the other members of the group when the alien stopped him.

  “Thank you, but we know all of your appellations,” it said, its voice becoming more assured with the sounds of the new speech. “Let me introduce myself. I am Kii. I am of the Old Ones.”

  “You’re one of the bubble-things that knocked us out?” Barkham wanted to know.

  “No,” said Kii. “Those were ...” It paused, working its oddly shaped jaws as though looking for the right word. “Those were the Ones Who Enforce.”

  “Police. Cops,” said Barkham.

  “Or soldiers,” suggested Mikaela.

  “Neither and both ...” said Kii. “I understand your words. They are a war-like breed who enforce the status quo. But I am not totally familiar with everything ... You see, I have been asleep for oh, a very long time indeed. Asleep ... And the signal from the vessel that brought you here ... It has awakened me from my rest in the Cold World, on the edge of this system. All the conscious time since that signal, I have been discovering what has changed ... and what has not changed ... with my people.”

  “You must forgive us, but you’ve lost us, Kii,” said Takamura.

  “We have quite a few facts gleaned from what we’ve studied on the Dragonstar ... the vessel that has brought us here,” said Dr. Jakes. “But still there are huge gaps.”

  “But of course. However, your burning curiosity ... I find that most satisfactory! Forgive me, but I am very excited. I am like a little one, with new toys!”

  “Toys!” said Barkham, “Hey, we’re intelligent beings. Beings with some heavy problems that you started!”

  “Forgive my choice of words,” said Kii. “But you will understand my excitement once you have heard my story.”

  “Well, we’re listening,” said Barkham. “Nothing much else to do!” He sat back down on the couch and propped his head against the wall. The others chose to remain standing.

  “I must say,” said Dr. Jakes. “You’re being awfully cooperative for a member of a race that just knocked us on our noggins and stuck us in a cell.” His tone was suspicious, and Mishima had to agree.

  “Please, I can understand your problem,” said Kii. “But you must believe me. I do not represent the others. I am merely in charge of interrogating you while the others take full command of the seed ship you call the Dragonstar.”

  “Interrogating ...” said Mikaela. “But you’re answering our questions.”

  “Oh, be assured that my interrogation has already been completed. This is why I am equipped with your language. Plus, I understand much about what has transpired. And please, I must explain to you these things so that I may invite your cooperation. And in order for my plan to work, I must have your conscious decision to help me.”

  “Help you do what?” said Barkham suspiciously.

  “Change the course of intergalactic history,” said Kii. “And perhaps save your lives in the bargain.”

  Barkham brightened. “I like the sound of the last one.”

  “Is there hope, then, that we can return to our home planet?” said Takamura.

  “Please listen,” said Kii. “There is hope, but you must listen, and you must trust me.”

  They all exchanged looks which said, “Nothing to lose!” and Barkham said, “Go right ahead, Kii.”

  “Thank you,” said the alien. “You are a most curious race. You have many qualities I have never encountered before in all my journeys among the stars. And again, this excites me, because I am one of the scientists who created the ship that brought you here.”

  That stunned them all.

  It
was Dr. Jakes who was able to come up first with the obvious statement of fact. “But ... but that would make you over a hundred million years old!”

  “Not really. Yes, I was alive and functioning millions upon millions of years ago ... but after the dispatch of the seed ships that were built, I and my brethren responsible for their construction entered a most extreme form of suspended animation ... perhaps tantamount to one-way time-travel, in fact. We wanted to see what would be the result of our efforts ... And we, frankly, despaired of the civilization that we left behind ... which is why we hoped to change it ...”

  “Please, could you start at the beginning?” said Dr. Jakes, fascinated.

  “I of course do not have time to give you all the specifics, so I will boil it down to essentials. I am of a segment of my original race known as the Planners. We were the force of scientists behind the outward expansion of life in the universe. You see, after many ages of intelligent existence, there was the natural urge to spread throughout the galaxies via colonization. But myself and my brethren felt that colonization was a dead end. For the political segment of our race, known as the Movers, had such a tight grip on cultural and intellectual growth, there seemed no hope for the kind of growth necessary to break out of our metaphorical eggs. And in fact, all these millions of years since then have borne out our projections. The history of our race has seen a wide sweep through the galaxies, but there have been long epochs of stagnation as well! And all of this, despite the fact that we have developed to the very height of our evolutionary capabilities. This, you see, was at the heart of why we made the seed ships the way they were: with full knowledge of our own growth patterns, but with the possibilities for variations ... variations that would lead a new race out of the dead end that we faced!”

  “Which would explain the dioramas ... the systems inside the ship,” said Dr. Jakes. “It foresaw some of the development the Dragonstar planted on Earth ... but clearly not all!”

  “Yes. And after examination of your species, I can see that your race is exactly the sort of thing we were looking for!”

  “The human race?” Mikaela said, astonished. “You’ve got to be kidding!”