Zoo

by Phil Price

  “Let’s hope they like me.”

  “I’m sure they will. They were very fond of Relkon and were very upset when he died. But they know that the universe moves on.” They shouldered their packs, walking along the pontoon towards the cosy looking cabin that sat on the water’s edge. “We can leave our things here and unpack later. I am sure Mother will want to make us something for dinner.”

  “Lead on. I could eat a baby Breekin.”

  “You’re funny,” she replied as she closed the cabin door, linking arms with her man as they made their way up to the impressive house, the trees around it swaying in the stiffening breeze.

  “Kyra!” a female voice called as they rounded the front of the house.

  “Mother,” Kyra called, her pace quickening until she embraced the older woman who was skipping towards her. They came together, hugging and laughing as they regarded each other. “I like what you’ve done with your hair, Mother,” Kyra said, gently touching the steely locks that were being buffeted by the wind.

  “Do you really like it? Your father decided to treat me for my lifeday.” She looked over her daughter’s shoulder, eyeing the dark-haired stranger. “Hello,” she said warmly.

  “Hello,” Torben replied evenly.

  “Mother, this is Torben. Torben, this is my Mother.”

  The older woman released her daughter, walking over to the man who stood nervously. “I’m Elsor. Pleased to meet you, Torben,” she said, lightly kissing his cheek.

  “Nice to meet you too, Elsor,” he replied as he appraised the woman in front of him. She was tall, almost reaching his own height. Her steely grey hair bounced around an attractive face and piercing green eyes which regarded the world warmly. Torben could clearly see the family resemblance. “You two look like sisters,” he said, trying to break the ice.

  “I like him already,” Elsor said. “Such a way with words too. Come. I’ve just finished my chores. I’m sure you’re both hungry.” She led the way, linking arms with her daughter as Torben followed a few steps behind. A glass door opened silently, and the threesome walked into a brightly-lit hallway. Elsor leaned against a wooden staircase, deftly flicking off her pumps before running her tanned fingers down her black leggings to straighten them. “This way,” she beckoned to Torben, walking from the hallway into a large kitchen.

  “Wow. This is quite a place you have here, Elsor,” he said, clearly impressed.

  “Thank you,” she said happily. “Trevik, my husband, is quite handy with his tools. He built this house from scratch, using the surrounding trees to erect the frame. We lived in the lakeside cabin for two years whilst he built it. This was before Kyra and Max came along.”

  “It’s something else,” he said, running his hand across a light wooden worktop. The floor was a dark tile that perfectly matched the black units and the island that was the centrepiece of the large room. Windows ran the length of the three walls that made up the room, the lake its vista. “I’m not much of a cook. But I could get used to trying if I had that view.”

  “Well, sit yourselves down and I will fix us some lunch. All that gardening has made me hungry. Torben, what would you like to drink? Juice? Graff?”

  “I’ll have a juice please, Lady Zakx,” he used the official term that was customary, showing his respect to the lady of the house.

  “Call me Elsor. Lady Zakx makes me sound terribly old.”

  “Juice for me too, Mother,” Kyra said as she sat down on a tall stool next to the island. Torben followed suit, resting his arms on the wooden worktop.

  Elsor opened a large cupboard door, pulling out a glass jug that was filled with a dark liquid. She closed the cooler, walking over to the young couple, placing the juice in front of them. A recess in the counter slid to Torben’s left, two large glass tumblers rising out of the cupboard beneath him. Kyra poured two glasses, taking a hearty swig. “Thanks, Mother. Just what I needed.”

  “Yes, thank you, Elsor,” Torben said before he lifted the glass to his lips, enjoying the tart taste that the juice gave off.

  “My pleasure. I will fix you both something to eat. I’m sure your Father will want something too.”

  “Where is he?” Kyra asked.

  “Upstairs. A call came through about an hour ago. One of the pipelines up in the Tundra has developed a fault. He needs to fly up there to take a look.”

  “Will he ever truly retire?”

  “That’s what I said, love. But you know Father. Committed to the cause.” A few minutes later the threesome were sat at the island, munching their way through Elsor’s flatbreads. Torben enthusiastically scooped a spoonful of dark spread onto the unleavened bread, savouring the heady taste.

  “These are so good, Elsor.”

  “Thank you. That’s my homemade Zicky. Everything in that comes from the garden.”

  “It’s delicious,” he responded, wiping his lips with a paper napkin.

  “So. How did you two meet?” the older woman asked.

  “On the mission, Mother. Torben is the ship’s captain. We got chatting not long after we took off. It kinda went from there.”

  “Romance in the stars. I like the sound of that. Where did your mission take you?”

  Torben placed his glass on the wooden top, clearing his throat. “A small planet called Earth. It’s pretty much on the other side of the universe. Thirteen billion lights from here.”

  “Oh my. That is some journey. Did you complete the mission as expected?”

  “Yes. We rounded up a collection of the species from the planet, depositing them on Valkash.”

  “Kyra told me about that planet. Sounds like a giant theme park.”

  “In essence, that’s what it is.”

  “I don’t really like the idea of it to tell you the truth.”

  “We are both in agreement. After all, what right do we have to kidnap another species? Especially a semi-intelligent one that has been taken away from their families.”

  “But the Lomogs have spoken,” Elsor responded evenly. “We are in their debt. This is but a small price to pay I guess.”

  “I know, Mother. But it still feels wrong.”

  “Who are you?” a male voice boomed from behind them. Torben turned in his chair to see a large man with a grim expression on his face, staring straight at him. In his large hands, he held a long rifle. The captain’s eyes opened wider as the other man levelled it at his chest, slowly advancing towards him.

  Fifteen

  A forsaken rock next to a dying star

  The cave sat atop a large outcrop, lights from the nearby space-port barely visible as a sand storm moved in for the night. Inside the opening, three figures sat around a small fire. Two females and a male regarded each other over the flickering yellow flames. “Are we set?” the one woman asked.

  “Yes,” the man responded, eyeing his leader. She sat cross-legged on the reddened floor, her unkempt sandy hair hiding a long scar that ran the length of her weathered face. His stare flickered slightly as she regarded him with her one good eye. What remained of the other eye socket was obscured under her fringe. The man looked at the flames, stirring the embers with a stick.

  “I am ready too,” the other woman stated flatly. The man glanced up at her, smiling thinly. She returned the gesture, her silvery teeth sparkling in the firelight. The woman’s long, dark hair was tied in a tail that ran down her back. Her long limbs were covered in raised tattoos of unusual designs and hues. The man realised he was staring and averted his gaze once more.

  The leader rose stiffly, running her fingers through her sandy hair, her other hand dusting her clothing. “Ullar,” she said, regarding the other woman. “How long until we are ready to strike?”

  “Less than a moon’s cycle, Hameda,” she replied respectfully.

  Hameda looked at the man below her, smiling evenly. “Ragyi,” she cooed. “When can we make our move? This inactivity is frustrating.”

  He looked up at his leader, trying to keep his voice steady. “T
he same as Ullar, give or take a day or so. The Lomogs were not so clever, leaving undetonated warheads lying around. Warheads that are ancient, but still operational. No one uses nuclear technology anymore. But the damage will be no less severe. They have been primed. All we need is the delivery system, which Ullar has provided. I think we are all set to make a statement.”

  “Good. Very good,” Hameda said before making her way to the cave’s entrance. “Ullar. Is the ship down there?”

  “Yes. In a disused hangar. Ragyi’s people are on their way, bringing the warheads.”

  “You say less than a moon’s cycle. Is that our travel time?”

  “Yes, Hameda. From our position in this system to Biflux should take roughly fifteen days, give or take. From there, we will have enough warheads to strike at a few other strategic sites. Valkash being the main one.”

  “Then let us be about our business. Whoever took my beloved Barajan’s head is about to pay a heavy price. Not only in lives, but in power. Power that I intend to wrest back from those tin-framed bastards.”

  An hour later, the trio stood in the confines of the neglected hangar that Ullar had described. In the centre of the low-slung space, a ship sat quietly. Tendrils of steam seeping from large vents on its hull. Hameda walked over, her gait clumsy and stilted. She ran a hand over the grey exterior, liking the look of the inconspicuous freighter. “How fast can she go?”

  “She is fast enough. 0.05 of Light Speed. That is all we need, Hameda. We want to remain inconspicuous whilst we travel. She’s not the prettiest ship, so we need to remain off anyone’s radar.”

  “Okay. But Biflux lies in another system. How will we reach it in time? Valkash too. Is there something that I do not know because the numbers do not stack up.”

  Ullar smiled, resting her hand on the ship’s hull. “Wormholes.”

  “Wormholes?”

  “Yes. The Lomogs have secretly positioned them across many systems, allowing ships to pass through, cutting down their travel time. Many of the new ships do not need them, as they are fitted with their own Singularity Drives, which allow them to jump across the cosmos instantly. However, many of the freighters that deliver goods are not fitted with that kind of tech. So those metal bastards created wormholes instead.”

  “Very clever. I almost like them for doing that. But not quite. If it aids our cause, I will gladly use their offerings before we crush them. I also think we should test out a warhead before hitting our two main targets. One of the new orbitals.”

  “Good idea,” the man said eagerly. “There is an orbital relatively nearby. That will send out a message.”

  Ullar’s face looked pinched. “But it might alert them, making strikes against Biflux and Valkash more difficult.”

  “You may be right,” Hameda added sagely. “However, if we do it right, it might just appear to be an accident. It would not be the first station that has exploded. You’ve all heard about Sygnus 1.” They nodded, remembering the stories that had floated across the galaxy about the first super-station. The main reactor inside the vast ring had malfunctioned before going critical. Millions were killed.

  Ragyi looked down at a small screen fitted to his wrist. “They are almost here. We’re in for a busy day.”

  “I like busy,” Hameda replied. “Busy gets results.”

  “Daddy. What are you doing?” Kyra asked as she eyed her father warily.

  “Trevik?” Elsor said quietly. “Are you alright?”

  Torben eyed the man across the kitchen, noting the steely resolve in his eyes. The captain slowly raised his hands, his mind frozen.

  “Are your intentions towards my daughter honourable?”

  “Of course,” Torben replied readily.

  “Good,” said Trevik. He lowered the weapon, a large smile spreading across his face.

  “Daddy,” Kyra exclaimed, skipping across the kitchen into his embrace.

  “Hello Princess,” he said, lifting her easily off the smooth floor. Torben took a step backwards, leaning against the island unit in the centre of the room. He breathed out, his heart still hammering in his chest.

  “That was not how you introduce yourself to guests,” Elsor said, trying her best to sound stern.

  “Sorry, Elsy,” he replied, using the pet name that he had given her many years before. He walked over to Torben, extending his hand. “My apologies. I’m Trevik.”

  “Torben,” the younger man replied, matching the older man’s grip.

  “Strong handshake. Says a lot about a man,” Trevik said, clapping Torben on the shoulder. “Is there any lunch left for the old man of the house?”

  “Yes, Trev,” Elsor responded, sliding a plate towards her husband. They were all seated as the wind outside strengthened, trees next to the lake swaying in unison.

  “Mum tells me that you have to fly up to the Tundra?”

  “Yes,” Trevik said between mouthfuls. “One of the pipelines that supply power to the northern stations has developed a fault. Their regular engineer is on leave. Bad back. Kids.” He let the word hang in the air whilst he took a swig of juice. “So, the call came through. It should be routine. I will be back in a few hours.”

  Kyra looked at Torben, who was gazing out at the vista. “Why don’t you go with Father?”

  “Really?” the younger man replied, glancing at Trevik.

  “Why not,” Trevik responded enthusiastically. “I could use the company.”

  “Only if you’re sure,” Torben replied, a whiff of excitement coursing through his veins.

  “Are you handy with a rifle?”

  “Sure. Since I was a boy I have hunted, with various weapons.”

  “Good. You can keep an eye out whilst I check out the pipeline. I will ready the craft. I will be back in five minutes.” The older man left the room, his rifle slung over his shoulder, leaving the others to finish their lunch.

  “You’ll have fun,” Kyra said. Father is a sweetheart really. He will take good care of you.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Torben said. “It’s not your father that I am worried about. It’s whatever else is out there. They too might be expecting lunch.”

  Sixteen

  Earth

  Hugh sat at his laptop, the house unnaturally quiet. The children were at school and nursery, giving the man some time to do some digging. And he had just unearthed something. When not playing daddy to his two boys and husband to Gemma, Hugh was part of an online community called Black Knight. A worldwide smattering of gamers, authors, book cover designers and the odd hacker here and there. He’d just received a message from someone called Ezekiel, from Florida. He knew of Ezekiel, not always agreeing with his paranoid conspiracy theories regarding shape-shifters, secret societies and the social media Armageddon countdown. The man from across the Atlantic was convinced that social media was put on Earth as an experiment that would bring about the end of mankind, through fake news and religious reprisals. However, today he had found something that was of interest to Hugh; a leaked story on the Internet regarding an unknown object spotted by numerous amateur astronomers across the globe. From Perth to Venezuela, people were talking about an unknown disturbance in the Earth’s atmosphere a few days before. Normally Hugh would pay this little attention, focusing on other more important issues. However, today was different. Today his wife was missing, nobody knowing how or why she’d suddenly vanished into the ether, along with countless others. He would normally discount random accounts of UFOs, knowing that they were ten-a-penny. What he was looking at now was a message sent from the International Space Station to Roscosmos in Kazakhstan, stating that an unidentified object had briefly been observed approaching Earth’s orbit. The Russian text had been translated, albeit clunkily. The message had given Hugh goose-bumps. We have to report an unidentified object, spotted at 18:27 on October 18th. Before we photograph, it vanished. But there was something there. Two Cosmonauts and one Astronaut saw it too.

  “Jesus!” he breathed. “I need more info.” He
set to work a few minutes later, a hot mug of coffee to his left. After an hour, his coffee replenished once more, Hugh leaned back in his chair. “This is insane,” he said, pulling his phone out of his trouser pocket. He reached across the desk, picking up the business card he’d received a few days before. He opted for the mobile number at the bottom of the card, not wanting to get stuck on hold.

  It rang for a few seconds before there was a crackle on the line. “Hello?”

  “Mr Lewis?” Hugh asked, his mouth dry, his voice raspy.

  “Speaking.”

  “Hi. It’s Mr Andrews. Gemma’s husband. Have you heard any news?”

  “Not at this time, Mr Andrews, although we are currently heading up several lines of enquiry.”

  “I know this might sound outlandish, but I’ve been reading several accounts on the Internet regarding an unidentified object spotted above the Earth. I was wondering if you’d heard anything about this?”

  There was a pause on the line for a few seconds, which was enough to tell Hugh that Mr Lewis had heard something. The pause ended quickly, the voice on the end of the line trying to remain unflustered and neutral. “We try not to get caught up in conspiracy theories, Mr Andrews. We try to deal in facts. We’ve not heard any accounts of unidentified objects in and around the Earth’s atmosphere in the recent past, if at all. I would discount such information. We are doing all we can to trace all the inhabitants of your village and we will not rest until they are all returned safely home.”

  “Sorry if that sounded a bit out there. I’m just worried.”

  “It’s understandable, Mr Andrews. Sometimes our imaginations can run away with us during times of heightened stress. As soon as I hear anything, I will be in touch. Good day.”

  “Goodbye,” Hugh replied, the line already disconnected. He is hiding something, he thought. He may appear super cool, but my question caught him off-guard. I will keep digging. Someone out there must know something.