Apex Science Fiction and Horror Digest #9

by Apex Authors

  The men said nothing, merely stood with folded arms, looking at him. Henry's spacesuit made folding his arms uncomfortable, so he just stared back. Both men were dark-skinned and wore strands of colorful beads around their necks. They reminded Henry of pictures he'd seen of Zulus: bare-chested and barefoot, wearing what looked like flaps of rawhide around their waists. They weren't carrying spears, nor did they have bones piercing their noses, but they looked vaguely feral. He hoped they weren't cannibals. Given the state of his ship, he was stuck here. The distress signal he'd triggered before entering the planet's gravitational field wouldn't reach Earth for hours and it would be weeks or months before anyone could respond. He didn't relish playing Charlton Heston on the planet of the teleporting savages in the interim.

  Simply raising his arm to check the gauges on his wrist was enough to make him wince. He might not have broken any bones, but he sure as hell hurt all over. At least the atmosphere was breathable. If it hadn't been, he would have lasted only as long as his air supply.

  Clenching his teeth to hold back any groans that might frighten the natives, he released the seal on his helmet. Air hissed. The natives frowned and jabbered at each other in an unintelligible lingo. He inhaled slowly—the only familiar aroma he detected was smoke—and tucked the helmet under his arm. He held out his hands, palms forward, in what he hoped was a universal gesture for them to remain calm.

  One of the men tugged the helmet from Henry and scrutinized it. When he noticed his reflection in the faceplate, he peered at it, making exaggerated faces. After a moment he grinned and showed it to his partner. They jabbered some more, then the first abo waggled his fingers in the air and the helmet vanished.

  "Hey, I need that,” Henry said, taken aback by what he had just witnessed.

  The two men frowned. They conferred for a minute, glancing occasionally in his direction.

  "I didn't mean to yell, if that's what you're going on about,” he said.

  The first native pointed his index finger at Henry and twirled it in a small circle. Henry's inner ears tingled and his throat itched.

  "What was that?"

  "You understand us now?” the finger-twirling abo asked.

  "How did you do that?"

  The man shrugged. “I am Kamir. This is Jelvin."

  Henry wasn't sure about shaking hands. “Henry,” he said.

  "Come,” Jelvin said. “We will see to your injury and get you food."

  "I still don't see how you—” he started. Kamir grabbed his gloved hand and they were suddenly somewhere else. “Holy gods,” Henry said. His body felt like it was made of foam. Then, gravity and mass reasserted themselves and normal feeling returned to his body. They were standing in the middle of a circle of logs in the village he'd spotted during the last, dizzying seconds of uncontrolled descent. “That's unbelievable."

  "What?” Jelvin asked.

  "The way you zip from place to place."

  Kamir waggled his finger in the air again. “No, it's working properly,” he said to Jelvin. “We don't understand."

  "If I need to get from here to there,” Henry said, pointing to the ground in front of him and then to a spot near a tree, “I have to move my legs and walk."

  Kamir grinned. “You are primitive, then?"

  "I wouldn't exactly...” He stopped. It wasn't the time to debate who was more advanced than whom. Unless these guys had some other interesting tricks up their metaphorical sleeves, he was going to be here a while.

  Though smoke plumes wafted from the chimneys of several of the wooden huts, the village looked abandoned. “Where is everyone else? Are you alone?"

  "We are not used to strangers falling from the sky,” Jelvin said. “We were sent to greet you. The others will be here soon."

  "Can the others tele—?"

  He didn't get a chance to finish his question. Static electricity and ozone filled the air around him. A moment later, the village was full of people, adults and children alike, who gathered around him in a ragged circle. A small boy ran up and tugged on his leg. The next thing Henry realized, he was dressed only in his shorts and t-shirt. His spacesuit hung from a nearby tree branch. His helmet was on the ground beneath.

  "Did he do that?"

  Kamir shrugged and looked at Jelvin with raised eyes. Jelvin shook his head.

  "Marcanda will see to your injury,” Kamir said. He indicated a young woman sitting on a tree-stump seat in front of one of the huts. When he reached for Henry's hand, Henry flinched.

  "I'll walk, if you don't mind."

  "Of course."

  Marcanda had long dark hair tied back with a leather strip. She wore a colorful skirt that reminded Henry of the South Pacific, and nothing else. He tried his best to be polite and keep his eyes averted from her pert breasts, but the way they swayed when she rose to greet him challenged his resolve.

  "I'm Henry.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “They said you would..."

  She dipped her hand into a wooden bowl that hadn't been there the moment before, and moved closer. Her body heat radiated against him like a furnace. Her dark oval eyes widened and her pupils dilated when she reached out to run a finger over the gash in his brow.

  Henry tried to speak, but the words died in his throat as the blanket of her warmth made itself felt. He flinched and raised his hand to his forehead. The place she had touched suddenly grew hot. “Hey!” His probing fingers found no trace of his injury. He swallowed. “How'd you do that? Magic?"

  "I simply healed you,” Marcanda said.

  The heat dissipated throughout his body like adrenaline. The aches in his muscles vanished. “Wow,” he said, stretching his arms. “That felt nice. Could Kamir or Jelvin have healed me, too?"

  Marcanda's smile was enigmatic. “Of course, but why would you want them to? Unless you prefer—"

  "No, no—not at all."

  "Are you outcast?"

  "Huh?"

  "We know people live across the mountains. We have seen their smoke. Did your people put you in that container and hurl you over the mountains? Is that why you fell from the sky?"

  Henry's gaze had dropped momentarily to Marcanda's chest, so he wasn't paying close attention to her words. When he realized she was waiting for a response, he blushed. “No, I came from up there. From another planet."

  "I do not know that word."

  "It's what we're standing on.” Her brow remained furrowed. “This big lump of rock.” He stomped on the ground and swept his arms around to indicate their surroundings. “All of it. There are other places like this up there, circling other suns.” In case she didn't know that word either, he pointed at the glowing yellow mass in the sky.

  "You must have injured your head in the fall,” Marcanda said. “I will prepare another potion."

  "You've never seen the people across the mountains?"

  She shook her head. Her breasts bobbed.

  "Couldn't you just ... wrinkle your noses and zap yourselves over there?"

  She laughed. “Of course. But why would we? We have everything we need here."

  "Everyone can cast spells?"

  "We do not understand why you cannot. You breathe like we do.” Her long fingers touched the bare skin of his thigh and slid up to his crotch. “Your body reacts the same way as any other man's. Are the rest of your people over there similarly impaired?"

  Pleasant as Marcanda's intimate touch was, Henry couldn't think with her hand on his groin. He eased back and tried to will his body to settle down.

  "Like I said, I came from another planet."

  "Up there,” Marcanda said.

  "Right."

  "From where the rains come."

  "Beyond that. From where the light and the darkness come. From the stars."

  Marcanda considered this for a minute, then she put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Her alluring body swayed, but Henry felt his muscles tightening at her reaction. She took him by the hand. An eye-blink later they were standing amid the other vill
agers again.

  "Stop doing that,” Henry said.

  "He says he comes from the source of light and darkness,” Marcanda announced.

  The villagers burst into laughter. Henry's ears burned with humiliation.

  "He must have been seriously injured,” Marcanda said. “We will gather together and cast a healing. The harm must be grave for him to believe such a thing."

  "Do you see that?” Henry said, pointing at the smoldering ruins in the distance. “That is a ... spaceship.” He was going to call it an escape shuttle, but he didn't want to explain how he'd been forced to abandon his shipmates. He didn't want to think about how they were probably all dead now and drifting forever onward inside their hollow metal casket. “It brought me here from far, far away. My home circles a different sun. Out there.” He pointed to the clouds.

  No one laughed this time. They muttered among themselves and nodded gravely. Three villagers gathered around a cauldron that hung over a raging fire and added things Henry didn't recognize. Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble, he thought.

  "I'm not from across the mountains,” he said.

  They didn't appear to be listening any more. They had dismissed him as a raving lunatic. They added more ingredients to the boiling water. Henry hoped their recipe didn't include him.

  "I can show you.” He marched over to the tree and rummaged through his spacesuit pockets until he found his portable computer. He shook it near his ear to reassure himself it hadn't been damaged in the crash, then brought it back and stood next to Kamir and Jelvin. “Look at this."

  Marcanda approached from behind and stared over his shoulder. Henry felt her body brush against his. Steeling himself against untoward thoughts, he powered up the computer. With a few thumb strokes, he pulled up the encyclopedia and started a video about space travel.

  "This is a rocket-powered spaceship taking off from my home world. Here is my ship, orbiting our moon. We're called astronauts.” He flipped to another video and tilted the display so everyone could see it. “These are my crewmates. That's the captain.” Was the captain, he thought. By now, the radiation leak would have killed everyone aboard the ship. And Henry would be dead, too, if he hadn't been on an EVA repairing a broken sensor.

  "People like these will come here from my planet one day soon to pick me up.” He looked up when he sensed Kamir and Jelvin moving away from him. Behind him, Marcanda hissed.

  "Witchcraft,” Kamir said.

  "What?"

  "Release those people at once,” Jelvin said. His tone was low and threatening.

  "What people? These? No, you don't understand. This is just a recording. A video."

  "He has captured spirits within this device,” Kamir announced to the others.

  A groan arose from the villagers. The sky seemed to grow darker.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  "He is a witch,” Marcanda said. She had teleported several yards away from him. Her arms were crossed protectively across her chest. “A conjurer. He steals souls."

  "Wait! I can explain. This is just a computer. There are no souls in—"

  Something crashed into the back of his head. Pain and a brilliant sun of light flashed through his mind. Then everything went black.

  When he awoke, it was night. His head throbbed. His spine was stiff and his shoulders were pulled back uncomfortably. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized he was tied to something. The ground beneath his feet was uneven and unstable.

  A flame flickered nearby. In its glow, he saw the villagers gathered around him. Marcanda was holding a torch. “Nature does not abide a witch to live,” she said, and thrust the flaming tip into the kindling at the base of the mound to which he was staked.

  As the fire took hold, smoke burned his eyes. He tried to make them understand, but they wouldn't listen to his explanations. He couldn't help thinking that his crewmates had gotten the better end of the deal. At least they had died quickly aboard their spaceship. He was the unfortunate one—the one who escaped.

  Rob D. Smith (noirsouth.blogspot.com) lives and writes in Louisville, KY. Although he graduated from U of L with a degree in Fine Arts, writing is how he conjures images now. “Don't Show Your Teeth” is his first published short story.

  Don't Show Your Teeth

  By Rob D. Smith

  It took us half a day of down-cycle to reach the Central Community Supply Node on Acula O.C., but it was worth it to Perri. We could have been drinking hard ones with the crew or watching relays of the games or just grabbing some extra nap time. But we spent almost ten terran hours transferring between cramped maxivators loaded with angry, sweating worker drones (not that we weren't drones ourselves) just off work-cycle. Now he held the shipment we had come for in upraised palms and declared it glorious.

  "It's a paking pair of monster teeth."

  "Correct,” said Perri.

  "I rode with you for this? Work sucked this week, man. I needed some recov."

  I shook out the Parliament Journal text from my flexi-reader, rolled it tightly, and smacked him on the back of the head. He almost dropped his purchase.

  "Nik! Be careful.” He shuffled away from me after regaining his balance.

  "It's encased in plastacrete, you wuss."

  "But it's priceless. The original dental appendage for Milton Xavier in ‘Night Driven.’ Notice the classic Nosferatu fang style."

  Inside the clear block of plastacrete, it looked like a dental retainer relic with two sharp buck-teeth. The only thing scary about the teeth was the green bacterial buildup on the mouth piece.

  "How did you afford it?” We didn't make a fortune working on the fabrication crew. A nice living wage, but few benefits.

  "With collectors, it's all about the barter system. I had something he needed and he had something I wanted."

  His glossy eyes told me his statement rang false. He needed those teeth. I nudged him in the direction of the nearest maxivator. It would be the first of nine before we were back on the Jakarta Platform.

  "I'm not coming back when you trade those chompers for some anime toy from your childhood."

  "I still watch anime. But this is my last acquisition. Promise,” he said, as we reached the long line of people waiting for the next ride.

  * * * *

  The intense odor of burning plastic. It smelt like the time I left the wrong cookware in the microheater. I adjusted my bed tube angle thirty degrees to upright and unfastened my resting belt.

  In the small corner workstation, Perri sat bent over, furiously working on something. His back to me, a hidden light source outlined his hunched body with an eerie halo. Ah, the burning odor came from there.

  "Perri?"

  He swiveled on his stool. “Hey, big guy. I didn't mean to wake you. Even disconnected the fire detector."

  I could see half a block of plastacrete. He had used a miniature arc laser to slice through the ‘crete.

  He spun in a circle on his stool. “Notice anything different about me?"

  "We've got to be at work in a few T-hours."

  His spinning had revealed the other side of the ‘crete block. It was empty. When I looked up to Perri, he was smiling with sharp bucky teeth.

  "Take that nasty thing out."

  He waved me away. “I washed them off. It's cool.” He bent over and inspected them in a small stationary mirror. “I'm thinking about wearing them to work."

  "If you wear that may dom thing to work, find a new partner. I would rather work with Norton than be seen with you and those paking teeth."

  He removed the teeth, placed them on the table and came over to me. “Sorry, okay? I'm just playing around. I can't believe you hate my teeth more than Norton."

  I nodded. “Just ratchet it down a notch. I'm going to get some sleep."

  "Sure. I'm just going to clean up and get some rest myself."

  I was almost asleep when I heard a sucking slurp and knew he was wearing the teeth again.

  * * * *


  * * * *

  Acula Orbital City was an enormous satellite hub. Long-range logistics had it connecting with Brava O.C. or Ceylon O.C., depending on which crew worked faster, east or west. Crews worked non-stop, cycle after cycle, adding on to the city. People needed housing and corporations needed factories. Neither could come without additional room, so we fabricated more space for living, for creating, for consuming, but there would never be enough. Soon there would be north and south crews as well.

  I ate my mid-meal in a makeshift break area under the side conveyor system. It was lit well enough. Every place seemed to have just the right amount of light while retaining enough shadows for people to feel comfortable. Norton sat at the far end of the break area eating a cheese wrap that stank beyond endurance. Kaydee appeared out of some shadows and sat her lunch down next to mine.

  "How come you aren't chatting with Norton, your new partner?” She unpacked her food, benzo balls and fresh greens with a cold chai to drink.

  "His food stinks.” I bit into my wheat wafers, mashing them to bits.

  "Posit that. He's King Stank himself.” She wiped the table of my wheat rampage. “You ought to go back with Perri."

  "He still wearing those paking teeth?"

  "It's harmless fun, Nik. Can't you see that?"

  She was on a diplomatic mission, I understood that, but she hadn't seen the ancient saliva dripping from Perri's teeth. No amount of hot water or anti-bac detergent would clean off that infectious gunk. Made me sick just thinking of it in Perri's mouth, next to his tongue.

  "He's not acting right. I won't work with someone like that. It's unsafe. And as soon as my transfer comes in, I won't live with one either."

  Thinking of the teeth made my stomach heave, and I lost my appetite. I wadded up the remainder of my lunch and tossed it into the recycle chute.

  "Let's go, Norton."

  "Somebody's not acting right for sure,” Kaydee muttered between bites, as we left.

  * * * *

  I sensed a new smell in our refurbished cabin vent system that brought back an old memory. Back when I was on planet, I'd frequented the Wangenheim District where vendors and merchants of all kinds had pushed their legal and illegal wares.