Max and the Snoodlecock

by Zachry Wheeler

  Steve clucked with pure bewilderment, slow enough to actually vocalize the word buck.

  “My stars,” Perra said, equally shocked.

  Zoey shook her head. “How in the ‘verse does that thing even function?”

  “It doesn’t, which is kind of the point,” Ross said. “It’s just a roamer. As long as they can recycle food and air, the rest is immaterial.”

  The franken-station pulled the stealth ship towards its mangled body. The group ogled in silence as the metal beast consumed the space around them. The tiny vessel slipped through a crevasse and snaked its way through a maze of twisted components. It emerged into an expansive corridor lined with blinking piles of electronic debris, resembling a nightmarish nursery used to birth murder bots. At the rear of the creepy hollow, a towering wall of round ports loomed as a destination. Floodlights around the perimeter bathed it with a golden sheen, giving it the unsettling appearance of a giant wasp eye. The stealth vessel floated towards an empty dock and slipped through a transparent green barrier that served as an airlock. Once inside, it lowered to the ground and locked into place with a magnetic grip.

  The top half unlatched, twisted free, and floated away, gifting them a blast of clean air (as well as a much-needed stretch). Zoey and Perra traded nods of success, but a poofed Ross turned their attention to a large service droid racing towards them. Its wide base, bony frame, and spidery head gave it the appearance of a steampunk sunflower.

  “Shit!” Ross said, then scampered out of the vehicle.

  Steve flapped away as Zoey and Perra spilled over the side and followed Ross behind a nearby stack of crates. The robot paused to survey the ruckus, then realized it didn’t care in the slightest. It plunged its gadget-laden head into the lower half of the vessel and got to work. Steve landed atop the crates and hopped down to the floor. After a quick regroup, they peered around the stack.

  An extensive service area unfolded before their eyes, backlit with a sterile green light. A dozen droids poked and prodded around the room. Welding sparks arched through the air and bounced on a smooth floor marked with maglev tracks. The mellow hum of magnetic propulsion blanketed the space as robots darted from task to task. Countless cords dangled from the ceiling like moss hanging from branches. Massive claws swayed from mounted tracks, resembling an old arcade game ready to fish for prizes.

  “So what now?” Perra said.

  Zoey shook her head. “For once, I have no idea.”

  “We should scout a bit,” Ross said. “Get a layout of the interior, maybe stumble upon some intel.”

  Zoey turned a skeptical gaze to the feline. “So what, we just wander around?”

  “Yes, actually. This is a Suth’ra station. Nobody is going to think twice about you being here. For all they know, you solved a riddle and joined like everyone else. And besides, it’s not like anyone will look you in the eye and say hello. Just act like you belong and everything will be fine.”

  Perra shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Also bear in mind, these eggheads developed the most sophisticated cloaking tech in the entire universe, and regard it as such. We can already see that security is nonexistent, probably because they dismiss the possibility of infiltration. They would sooner normalize our presence than admit their tech is flawed. Hell, I bet the droids aren’t even programmed to second guess an unfamiliar face.”

  Steve clucked and trotted out into the open room.

  “Steve!” Zoey said with a harsh whisper. “What the hell are you—”

  “Bacock!” he said at the top of his tiny lungs.

  A dozen service droids stopped and turned towards the colorful snoodlecock standing alone beside a stack of crates. Silence infected the room. Zoey, Perra, and Ross gawked at the bird through horrified faces. Steve flapped a fresh round of feathers into the air. The droids studied the creature for a moment, traded puzzled glances, then resumed their tasks at hand. The hum of automation refilled the room. The group exhaled a collective sigh as Steve waddled back behind the crates.

  “That was lucky,” Ross said. “I pulled that last part out of my ass.”

  Perra thumped her back against the crates and covered her racing heart.

  “Pull that shit again,” Zoey said to Ross, “and I’ll dump you on Phil’s Place as a permanent squeeze toy.”

  Ross puckered his jowls and shook off an involuntary shiver.

  A series of sharp clanks snagged the group’s attention. They turned to find Steve pecking at an air vent along the wall. He jerked his gaze back to the group.

  “You two scout. In the meantime, the feline and I will conduct some stealthy recon.”

  “No, we shouldn’t split up,” Zoey said.

  “You ladies can blend,” Ross said. “But a house cat and a snoodlecock wandering about may raise a few eyebrows. Or at the very least, grumble some stomachs.”

  Zoey groused, then nodded in agreement.

  “Let’s see what we can find and meet back here in 20 marks.”

  “Better yet, establish a comlink with us.” Perra reached into her satchel and retrieved a pair of neural-link earbuds, a type of radio wave transmitter that interacted with the user’s neural pathways. The devices transmitted motioned words as clear dialogue. She enabled them with a click and flick, causing them to glow atop her hand. Zoey plucked one and tucked it into her ear. Perra did the same.

  “You copy?” Perra mouthed.

  “Loud and clear,” Zoey mouthed back.

  “All linked up,” Ross said, transmitting his voice.

  Steve jerked his head back and forth in confusion.

  “I’m a cyborg,” Ross said to Steve.

  Steve paused for thought, then nodded. “Oooh ... that explains a lot.”

  Perra fished a multi-tool from her satchel and knelt in front of the air vent. She detached the panel, set it aside, and turned to Ross. “Keep us updated. We’ll do the same. Mind your step and stay out of sight. We may not be in a position to help should things go south.”

  “Understood.”

  Steve clucked and tilted his head.

  Ross trotted into the vent. “Follow me, KFC.”

  Steve stood where he was, trading glances between the vent and the Mulgawats.

  A sigh echoed from the vent. “C’mon, doofus!”

  The snoodlecock clucked, hopped, and clanked into the vent. Perra reattached the cover and lifted to her feet. Zoey scanned the room and pointed to a far corner where a pair of service doors swung behind an emerging droid.

  “How about there?”

  “Works for me.”

  Zoey took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the crate stack, exposing herself to the bustling bay. Perra adjusted her sling pack and followed. The droids paid them no mind as they crept across the room and slipped through the swinging doors.

  * * *

  Back in the Chamber of Fear, Max chatted up a gorgeous blonde in a silky black dress. A posh waiter named Francois (Max knew this because he asked) swung by the table from time to time to top off the wine glass dangling between his fingers. Max grew to appreciate the sweet, subtle nuances of Haffonico blends from the Xon Kyne province (also because he asked). He laughed, smiled, and played the scene like a well-tuned fiddle.

  Fio leaned on the one-way mirror with palms pressed to the glass and eyes locked onto the human. Jerry and Frank stood behind him in contrasting states of shock. All eight of Frank’s eyes refused to blink for fear of missing a single tick. Jerry’s face twisted its way through horror and fascination. Karmo continued to munch on his popcorn, albeit at a slow and captivated pace. Rutherford shook his head as Max’s cocky voice filled the room with flirty banter.

  “Dude got game,” Karmo said.

  Jerry huffed and flailed. “What kind of sorcery is this?! The dude is blathering about pizza and pancakes. I mean, I get it, they’re delicious, but this dialogue has zero substance. She should have tuned out long ago.”

  “How long have they been going?” F
rank said.

  “Almost a full c-mark,” Karmo said.

  The group gasped.

  Fio wheezed with resentment. “The woman is actually listening to him! He’s talking out his ass and she’s hanging onto every word. What the hell, Karmo? Did you actually program her like that?”

  Karmo studied the scene with fierce curiosity. “I, uh ... never planned for this. It was out of the realm of testable possibilities.”

  “This is what I was trying to tell you,” Rutherford said. “The Earthman is attractive. He’s a pretty boy on his planet. It doesn’t matter what he says because he says it with undue confidence. Earth females are capable of overlooking a lot of bullshit when a dude looks and talks like that.”

  Jerry leaned over to Karmo. “You’re taping this, right? It could be a breakthrough in carnal science.”

  “Oh yes,” Karmo said while crunching.

  “Cap the allure scale,” Fio said to Karmo.

  Karmo flinched popcorn onto the console. “What? That has never been done before. It could fry his brain.”

  “I don’t care! The Earthman needs to suffer!”

  Karmo sighed and removed his glasses. He set his snack aside and tapped the console. A scale appeared on the screen with the dial set at 30%. He dangled a shaking tentacle over the control. “Are you sure you want to do this? Be aware, we are entering uncharted territory.”

  Jerry and Frank traded worried glances.

  Fio narrowed his eyes. “Do it.”

  Karmo took a deep breath and swiped the scale to 100%. The woman exploded into a million pixels, filling the room with a shimmering snow. Max jerked to his feet and ogled the twinkling cloud. Hologram ribbons swirled around the chamber with the grace of a ballerina. They returned to the opposite chair and began to reassemble. Legs appeared, then a waist, chest, neck, all building up to the completed image of Angelina Jolie.

  “Hello, Max,” she said, taking a seductive sip of wine.

  Max froze with utter stupefaction.

  A cautious silence infected the control room.

  Frank fainted.

  Max thought for a tick, smirked, then sauntered back to his seat. “Well well well, how you doin’?”

  Angelina replied with a playful smile.

  “Fuck me sideways,” Fio said in disbelief. “He thinks he has a chance.”

  Rutherford sighed. “Like I said, he’s a young stud with a big hairy ego. The world is handed to him on a silver platter. He gets rewarded for doing absolutely nothing. You’re not seeing things. He actually thinks he’s going to hit that.”

  Jerry plopped into a chair and sulked. “I worked hard for my physics degree.”

  “And you’re a better person for it,” Karmo said, patting his shoulder.

  Jerry whimpered and fidgeted with a shirt button.

  “Kill the simulation,” Fio said.

  Karmo tapped a large red icon. The scene flickered and faded, leaving Max to a darkened room. House lights kicked on and the chamber reset. Max slammed a fist onto the table and turned to the one-way mirror.

  “Not cool! I had her on the hook!”

  CHAPTER 11

  Zoey and Perra weaved their way through a labyrinth of old utility shuttles. A half-closed airlock led into a grimy service tunnel. An emergency exit linked to a crew entrance. They squeezed through the window of an abandoned loader and into a bunker filled with hanging laundry. Dirty sheets and three-legged pants swayed from floating hooks attached to nothing. They ducked around the garments, slipped through a wall portal, and emerged inside a spacious corridor with lighting strips and grated floors. Touch panels glowed with idle hues, marking hatch points to parts unknown. To the left, the tunnel disappeared into a distant rise. To the right, a nearby junction split it in two.

  Perra glanced back and forth. “Which way do you want to go?”

  Zoey shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

  A nearby panel pinged green, hooking their attention. The hatch below it clanked and creaked open with a shrill whine, allowing a spidery alien to squeeze into the tunnel. A plump and hairless body rested on seven legs and a stump. It adjusted to the wonky gravity and turned towards the Mulgawats. A pair of stunted arms grasped a thick manual and a comically large protractor. Three black eyes studied the book as the creature moseyed down the corridor. Zoey hardened her stance and palmed her plasma pistol. Perra took a step back and plotted their escape. The alien tossed them a glance as it passed, using peripherals to eschew eye contact. It harbored zero interest and proceeded down the passage with eyes affixed to the book.

  Zoey relaxed her gate and straightened her jacket with a shoulder roll. “Huh, I guess Ross was right.”

  Perra studied a jagged ceiling full of random panels and ducts. Her eyes crawled down an adjacent wall to a dangling latch. She unhooked it and opened a small cubby. Inside, a hairless rodent pedaled atop a tiny exercise bike. It stared straight ahead and kept pedaling, as if oblivious to the giant orange humanoid staring at it. Without a word, Perra shut the door and rejoined Zoey, content to forget the visual.

  “Such a weird place.”

  “An enormous understatement.”

  “It feels like we’re at a carnival, only nobody is having fun.” Perra paused for thought. “Actually, it’s exactly like a carnival.”

  Zoey glanced back and forth, then nodded towards the junction. “Let’s go that way.”

  They hiked down the tunnel and veered to the right, for no compelling reason whatsoever. The passage twisted and turned like a corn maze before ending at a flickering room full of busted monitors. They ducked around sparking wires and pushed through a drapery of plastic into an adjacent room. Spectrum lamps hung from the ceiling, feeding rows of fruit-bearing plants. Automated droids hovered around the enclosure, tending to the crops. Zoey carved through a thick mist with Perra in tow. At the other end, they opened an old crank hatch and slipped inside. A blast of chilled air filled their lungs as a psychedelic mural unfolded. Widened eyes scanned a vast hollow full of iridescent sculptures. A shadowy tree adorned the center, torn from the pages of a creepy children’s book. Twisted branches stabbed through a macabre tree house, creating the physical manifestation of a hallucinogenic nightmare.

  “Now that’s downright unsettling,” Perra said.

  Zoey sighed. “This is getting us nowhere.”

  “We need a better plan.”

  “I may have one,” Ross said over the comlink.

  * * *

  Back at the Chamber of Fear, a fog of defeat infected the control room. Fio glared at his captive human through the one-way mirror. With brow taut and hands at his waist, he conveyed the same contempt as a wearied boss wondering how to handle a problem employee. Max stood on the other side, studying his reflection with a cheesy grin. He rolled up his sleeves and flexed, admitting everyone behind the mirror to the gun show. They all groaned and rolled their eyes.

  “So what now?” Karmo said from the console.

  Fio maintained his spiteful stare and lowered his voice to a grumble. “The Earthling has bested the Chamber of Fear, an unfortunate setback. However, I sincerely doubt that his tenacity can withstand ...” He paused for effect and returned to a high-pitched squeal. “The Arena of Suffering!”

  Karmo gasped.

  Frank fainted, again.

  “Sweet Sagan,” Jerry said. “That would likely kill him before he reaches the Final Verdict.”

  Fio smirked and narrowed his gaze. “No. We will have trained emergency medical personnel on-site should things get hairy.”

  “Trained emergency med—” Jerry huffed and shook his head. “Jeez, just say Corina. What is it with you and your political word salads?”

  Fio clenched his lips, then swallowed the retort. “Fine. We’ll make sure Corina is there.”

  “Thank you. Was that so hard?”

  Fio ignored him and turned to Rutherford. “Escort the prisoner to the Arena of Suffering. Wait for us there while I summon the spectators.” />
  “Aye aye,” the robot said and clanked away.

  * * *

  Zoey and Perra slid down a frayed rope into a storage bunker. Zoey hit the floor first and hopped aside to survey the space. Perra hit behind her and eyed the hole above to assure their privacy. They glanced around a mid-sized room full of crates, barrels, and other containers. The dim lighting and dank air created the vibe of a spooky basement.

  “Now where?” Zoey said.

  “There’s a door panel to your right,” Ross said through the comlink. “Opens outward, just push.”

  Zoey stepped over to the wall and studied the smooth surface. She ran a finger through the grime and uncovered a panel line. Pressing both hands to the wall, she gave it a stiff push. The panel squeaked open, revealing a bright hallway. She took a cautious step into the passage and glanced down each side. Rows of gaudy wall sconces threw cones of light onto the ceiling. Plush carpeting lined the floor from end to end. The radiant amber walls featured numerous pieces of abstract art housed in anti-geometric frames. Zoey gawked at the space with a slow spin, as if yanked into a surrealist fantasy. Perra stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and mirrored Zoey’s dangling chin.

  “This place keeps getting weirder and weirder,” Perra said.

  “Left corridor, third door on your right,” Ross said.

  “How do you know all this?” Zoey said.

  “I’ll explain when you get here.”

  They trotted past one door and hugged a bend before stopping dead in their tracks. A giant slug crawled towards them with sunken eyes, plump lips, and spiky protrusions. Its striped body took up most of the hallway. The creature inched closer and closer, leaving a trail of glowing slime in its wake. A skinny tentacle clutched a tablet device while another tapped furiously across the surface, like a young teenager venting melodramatic grievances to social media. Zoey and Perra pressed their backs against the wall as the slug slid by on a plane of mucus. It squished and belched as it passed, paying no mind to the orange visitors. A pungent aroma assaulted the air.