by Rob Favre
With a dry mouth and sweaty palms, I crept forward in the darkness. I felt Zoe just a step behind me. I was two meters away. One.
I was close enough to touch it.
I reached out with my trembling hand. It was ten centimeters away.
Five centimeters.
Ten.
My hand was back at my side. All on its own, it had decided that we were going to get that close and no closer. The creepy alien in the dark corner was just going to remain untouched.
Zoe reached out and touched it.
It didn’t jump. It didn’t make a sound. It didn’t move at all. It sat there, motionless, just like every other box and shelf and can in this dark and dusty basement.
“It is smooth. Not wet or slimy at all. And not soft like skin. It is… solid.” Zoe was whispering as she ran her hand along the creature’s body.
She had touched it and not died or anything, so I reached out a trembling hand and did the same. She was right, it was cool and smooth, like a horse on the merry-go-round.
“You think it’s sleeping?” I asked in a whisper.
“I do not know. But to me this does not feel like a living thing.”
“Maybe it’s dead. Maybe it was never alive.” I pulled my hand back and stopped whispering. “Maybe Captain Jimmy saw a kid’s doll and freaked out and ran away.”
“The Miracle of Captain Jimmy Escaping from the Monstrous Toy.”
I laughed. “The Miracle of Captain Jimmy Trying to Prove He’s Not a Fraud…”
The creature jumped up.
I saw a flash of glowing yellow eyes, at least a dozen slender tentacles heaving in a tangle.
And a booming voice filled the chamber. “Ola smackers requestion hazza smiley question.”
Zoe and I slammed into each other as we turned and bolted for the door. I stumbled, she stumbled, but we both managed to stay on our feet. I think I was across the room and out the door in three huge strides. Once we were back out in the ravine, Zoe and I both made for a big boulder and ducked behind it, wide-eyed and breathless.
“I think… it might be alive,” I whispered.
Zoe nodded. “Did it follow us?”
I peeked around the boulder. “No, I don’t think… Ohmygod!”
I ducked back behind the boulder. I had seen something emerge from the doorway, but it must have been something so alien that it was beyond the ability of the human mind to understand, because I was pretty sure it looked like a huge hot dog with tentacles.
Zoe and I frantically whispered over each other as she tried to ask me what I’d seen, and I tried to explain it, which was pretty tough to do because I had no idea what it was. We decided we’d both take a peek. I counted down from three on my fingers and we poked our heads around.
This time, knowing that something would be there, I was a little less shocked and looked longer.
It was a hot dog with tentacles.
I don’t mean it was a creature that was roughly hot dog shaped. I mean, it was literally a hot dog, standing on end with a cluster of hot-dog colored tentacles coming out the bottom. The hot dog itself was about three feet long, nestled into a bun, with just a thin dribble of mustard coating its deep red skin. Also, it had eyes. And a mouth. And it talked.
“Grumpyface clockwaiting ticktock. Requestion speak shrug angry face.”
“I think it wants us to talk to it,” Zoe whispered.
“I don’t think I know its language. Is that even a language? It just sounds like gibberish.”
“Just try.”
I would be lying if I said I had never thought about this moment. Standing there face-to-face with an unknown life form. What would I say? What words would I use to introduce one species to another, knowing that they would be recorded in history for all time, just like “One giant leap for mankind?” Knowing that a future of peace and prosperity, or one of war and extinction, could hang in the balance based only on what I chose to say in that one moment? I had thought about this a lot, weighed a lot of different possibilities.
What I ended up saying wasn’t something I had ever planned for. It just kind of came out.
I peeked around the corner at the mysterious creature. “Um, are you a hot dog?”
The tiny little mouth slit at the top of the hot dog curled up into a smile. To my surprise, I found myself thinking that it looked kind of cute. Like a kids’ cartoon. But with tentacles. “Spinner spinning dustyclock please.”
Its face froze in a cheerful grin, and its unblinking eyes stared into my soul. Two of its tentacles traced a delicate pattern of interlocked circles into the sand. After about five seconds, it spoke.
“Hey, dude! It sounds like you’re speaking early 21st century American English from the planet Earth! If that’s right say, ‘yes.’ I’ll revert to my default configuration in ten seconds if you don’t say anything.”
One tentacle traced a line in the sand. The other wiped it away. The first tentacle drew a curved pattern. The other wiped it away. The first tentacle drew a double curve. The other wiped it away.
Oh. It was writing numbers in the sand.
I looked at Zoe. She shrugged. I shrugged back.
The hot dog was writing the number “7” in the sand when I said. “Um, yes.”
“Awesome, dude! Are you ready for the snaptastic flavor of all asterisk beef asterisk Grillo Brand Hot Dog Sausages?”
I looked at Zoe. She didn’t even shrug. We stepped out from behind our boulder. This thing seemed more interested in giving us a sales pitch than eating or capturing or vaporizing us.
Zoe spoke haltingly. “Do you… have a name?”
The creature’s little hot dog face twisted into an expression of hurt. “Dude, do you not know who I am? I’m Mustard, the galaxy’s most famous hot dog sausage brand mascot. Have you not seen any of my award-winning short films? Bogus.” If this hot dog had shoulders, they would have slumped. I was surprised to find myself feeling a little sorry for a talking, tentacled hot dog.
“I’m sorry, Mustard, I haven’t seen them. I will, though, as soon as I can. Mustard, can you answer questions?”
Mustard’s expression immediately perked up. “Sure thing, dude! I love to talk about the snaptastic flavor of Grillo Brand Hot Dog Sausages! I can answer any question you have about them. Fire away, bro!”
“I mean, about other things. Not hot dog things.”
Mustard sank back into disappointment. “Sure, dude. I mean, if that’s what you want to talk about.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Planet Awesome Flavor, dude!”
“No, you’re not.”
“It has a pickle relish ocean.”
“No, it doesn’t. What I mean is, are you a robot?”
“I prefer the term ‘manufactured pseudoliving brand ambassador.’ But, yeah. Pretty much a robot.”
“Where were you built?”
“My home world is Awesome Flavor. I think I already told you that, dude.”
“Mustard, if you’re not going to answer my questions, we are just going to leave.”
“No, dude. That’s really the name of the planet! I swear!”
“Mustard, who brought you to this planet?”
“Look, dude. I’m here to make sure everyone knows about the snaptastic…”
Mustard stopped talking abruptly. His tentacles had stopped moving.
Zoe called for him, tried to wake him up. “Mustard! Mustard, can you hear us?”
No response.
We tried everything we could think of to wake him up, but he was completely inert. I figured his batteries had just run dry.
“Poor Mustard,” Zoe said, and it sounded like she meant it. “I was enjoying our conversation. I suppose we could bring him back with us?”
I nodded. “He doesn’t look too heavy. Maybe somebody will be able to figure how to charge his batteries again.”
“Tom – are you alright?”
I had been trying to sound enthusiastic. I guess I wasn’t
too good at it. “Oh, yeah. I’m good.”
“I am sorry it was not really an alien.”
I snorted a little and smiled. “Oh, it’s okay. The good news is, nothing tried to eat us or lay eggs in us or anything.”
“That we know of.”
We picked up Mustard and started the long walk back to colony. It was late in the afternoon, still hot. But we probably weren’t going to make it back before dark. Was I disappointed that we didn’t find an alien? Sure. But I still got to spend the day with Zoe. We found some cans of beets. And, with a little luck, maybe this would lead to some answers about the weird stuff going on around here.
“Tom, I have to ask you something,” Zoe said as we made our way out of the canyon. “Did you ever eat these dog sausages that he was talking about?”
I beamed as we walked home in the golden twilight. It had been a good day. Maybe a perfect day. For the first time, I had some hope that things between me and Zoe were going to be alright. Finding Mustard felt like a turning point.
But it didn’t turn out the way I thought it would.
She sat on the porch with Hal and her brother, drinking wine. It was a sour batch, not especially good. They laughed about how the Gerwyn vineyards were going to have to get their act together before next year. Nobody said it, but the thought hung thick in the air between them: If any of us are even around next year.
The blistering wind cooled off as Cordelia set over the mountains, black and purple and fiery orange. By the second glass of wine, she was nothing more than a glow and the heat was no longer suffocating. They talked about the old days, stupid things they’d done when they were kids. The time she had gone missing overnight because she’d gone looking for the dog. How their parents had worried. Nobody said it, but the thought hung thick in the air between them: I wonder if the little boys asleep in the house will ever be able to look back on their childhood and laugh.
The sounds of music drifted on the wind. Probably from New Lower Stoor Edge. Someone was having a party. They just listened in the darkness for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Her brother excused himself and went home. The music stopped. They watched the lights of the town blink off, one by one, until it looked the way they remembered from long ago, just a few points of light gleaming against a world of darkness. Hal took her hand, and it felt good, warm and strong and reassuring. It made her feel safe. She knew the feeling was a lie, but she let herself believe it, just for tonight. Nobody said it, but the thought hung thick in the air between them: If they went to bed, they were surrendering one more of the precious few days they had left. Nobody knew how many days there were.
She leaned her head against Hal’s shoulder. At some point, despite her best efforts, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 10
The dust swirled along the valley floor like a living thing, driven by the moaning wind. The sky was low and gray, and the heavy air smelled like rain.
Dad looked at Mustard, pointed to the door. “Okay, little guy. Do your thing.”
Mustard looked hopeful. “My dance?”
“No. We’ve seen enough of your dance. Unlock the door.”
Mustard’s expression crumbled into blank neutrality. There was a soft hiss and click from the door, barely audible above the sound of the wind. “Okay, dude, I’ve unlocked the door. How about that dance now?”
“Not now, Mustard. Just wait here.”
Dad glanced at Vlad, who just nodded. Dad pushed the door open. I thought back to the time when I’d first found this hatch with Kev and Fradd. Back before we’d learned the truth. The memory felt like it belonged to someone else. It made me wish I could go back and just be the kid looking for aliens again. I missed being able to think that way. Now, with all we’d learned, things were… less fun.
I took Zoe’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. We stepped inside too.
The hatch opened to a little corridor, lined with a smooth white material, darkened by a thin layer of black sand. After a few meters, we stepped out into a huge open room with a soaring ceiling. The entire inside of the plateau must have been hollowed out. There were markings on the floor: some numbers I recognized, some writing I didn’t, color-coded arrows pointing this way and that between a regular pattern of large colored circles. Mustard had been telling the truth about one thing: it was definitely a hangar for some type of flying craft. Had he been telling the truth about everything else? I felt numb thinking about it.
“Where is it?” Vlad asked, speaking to himself.
“Dude, are you looking for my home planet, Awesome Flavor?”
Nobody laughed or spoke. Mustard’s final syllables echoed off the dim walls of the huge chamber. Vlad muttered something under his breath that was definitely not appropriate for children. There had been a lot of that lately. I was getting used to it.
“The starship, Mustard. The one we talked about. The one you promised us was in here. Where is that starship?”
“Oh. It’s one hundred ninety meters in that direction.” Mustard pointed with a sullen tentacle. “You have to be more specific when you ask me things, dude. I don’t know what you mean when you just say ‘it.’”
Vlad’s voice was weary. It had been a long couple of days. “You really thought I wanted to know the way to your fake home planet?”
“Awesome Flavor has Moltencheese volcanos.”
“Mustard, just… stop.”
Vlad stalked off into the darkness. My dad and a handful of others followed him. Somewhere in the cavern, drops of water were plunking into a puddle.
Mustard turned to me. “The volcanos are full of Moltencheese. Cheddar and Buffalo Wasabi Ginger Ranch.”
“I know, Mustard. You told us that already.”
“Awesome Flavor is a fantastic place. The whole planet is packed with flavor, dude!”
Zoe gave Mustard a comforting pat on the bun. “Perhaps one day you can show us. It seems we may be looking for another home soon.”
“You mean because of the burning and melting, dude?”
Zoe didn’t answer. Without much else to do, we followed the others to see if there really was a starship in this place.
The last few days had been pretty crazy. Zoe and I hauled Mustard’s stiff body back to the colony, and of course everyone wanted to see him and talk about him. It’s safe to say that not everyone wanted to touch him. But my dad and a few other engineers fiddled with him for a while and figured out how to get his battery charged again. He was real popular for most of the first day. He danced, he sang, he made people laugh.
Then he started answering questions about how he got into that cave, and he got a lot less popular.
Mustard had been here for a long time. Hundreds of years, in fact, though it took quite a bit of asking to get even that much information out of him. He had a tendency to steer every conversation back to the topic of condiments, so you had to be very careful how you phrased your questions. He also didn’t give us any times in years, at least not at first. He wasn’t programmed that way.
It seemed that a lot had happened while we were on our long, long trip here from Earth.
Mustard had come here as part of another expedition. It was an expedition of people, humans. Not aliens. He was very clear on that. Humans. But they weren’t from Earth. Not directly, anyway.
During the time we were on our way here, someone – Mustard was not entirely clear on who – came up with a way to travel through space fast. Like, really fast. Like, close to the speed of light fast. Mustard, again, was not very clear on the details of how this was accomplished. He said he thought it had to do with super spicy chili and dark matter. But what it boils down to is this: while we were still making our way across the galaxy in a covered wagon, someone figured out how to build a jet.
And, once traveling between stars took years rather than centuries, humanity spread across nearby systems like dandelion seeds on a warm spring breeze.
Fast.
By the time Mustard left his home planet th
ere were at least one hundred planets inhabited by humans. He insisted his home planet was called Awesome Flavor. He also insisted that it was a “paradise of condiments.” Nobody really knew what that meant, but his descriptions sure were vivid.
Hour by hour, answer by agonizing answer, we pieced together the story of how Mustard had come to be here. He was part of a colonization mission, about one hundred and forty years ago. Earth years, that is. One hundred twenty-five years here on New Newton. The way he told it, he was the leader of the expedition, but we were pretty sure he was more or less a fancy commercial. Like with everything Mustard told us, it was tough to separate the truth from the condiment-based hyperbole, but it sounded like things had gone well, at least at first. The climate was mild, there was plenty of water, and the soil lent itself well to fertilizing and there was no problem growing food, or flowers, or trees. My mom was thrilled, by the way, to hear that someone else had already worked on the soil here – it explained why our crops were growing better than she’d expected them to. Anyway, Mustard told us about the farms, and the buildings, and the aircraft. He also told us there was some kind of big disagreement over chili cheese pizza roll stuffed mozzarella sticks that resulted in a lot of hurt feelings and about a dozen people leaving. We were pretty sure there was some other cause. These other colonists were the ones who built the baseball diamond, which was the final bittersweet nail in the coffin of my alien theory. They had struggles and challenges, as any group of humans will, but for the most part, it sounds the colony was doing just fine.
Then, things started to heat up.
“It’s a little... little.”
I thought a joke might lighten things up, but my voice just echoed softly in the vast cavern until it was mercifully swallowed by the thick silence. I couldn’t blame anyone for not laughing though. It wasn’t my best material. These were unusual circumstances, and I was off my game.
We were all standing around a starship.