Space Team: Song of the Space Siren

by Barry J. Hutchison

  “OK, can we call anonymously?” Cal asked. “Just blast out a ‘look out’ message and hope the Symmorium get it?”

  “No,” said Loren. “The transmission would identify the ship. But wait a minute…”

  Her fingers tapped her controls. “Mech, when Kornack tricked us, he used a Symmorium distress signal, right?”

  Mech nodded, slowly at first, but quickly getting faster. “He did!”

  “Kevin, you still got that transmission recorded?” Loren asked.

  “Affirmative, ma’am,” Kevin responded. “What would you like me to do with it?”

  “We’re going to send it!”

  Cal pointed to the screen. “To who? These guys?”

  Loren shook her head. “To every Symmorium ship within range of this system. It’ll bring the cavalry running.”

  “Uh, great,” said Cal. “But won’t they immediately get blown to pieces?”

  Loren’s fingers hesitated. “Not necessarily,” she said.

  “Not before they can let the rest of them know what’s happening,” Mech added.

  “Right, right,” said Cal. “But… we might be luring some poor Symmorium crew to their deaths?”

  Mech sighed. “Better that than this whole fleet all rocks up at the Symmorium Sentience and wipes it out. Least this way, they got a chance.”

  Cal rocked in his chair. It really was a ridiculous number of ships. Suddenly, the scale of the Zertex-Symmorium war was painfully clear. Every Earth war rolled into one wouldn’t even touch the sides of the battle about to rage across the galaxy. They were one ship. What could they do?

  “Send it,” said Cal. “Transmit the distress signal. Then let’s get the fonk out of here and get Soonsho home. At least that’s something we can do.”

  Loren tapped the controls in silence, as the armada continued pushing on past. “Kevin, transmit signal,” she said.

  “As you wish, ma’am,” said Kevin. There was a brief pause. “Distress signal transmitted. Symmorium vessels beginning to respond.”

  “Ignore them,” said Loren. “They’ll come to check it out.”

  “Lucky them,” said Cal. He puffed out his cheeks and pushed himself back in his chair. “Now, can we get out of here, please? These amshoops are spoiling the view.”

  “We made the right choice,” said Mech, turning to Cal for the first time since they’d stopped. The cyborg’s features pulled into a scowl, and he gingerly touched the back of his metal skull. “Now, what the fonk did you throw at my head?”

  * * *

  The next few hours passed. That was all Cal could really say about them. They didn’t pass particularly quickly, nor did they drag. They just happened at the speed they were supposed to happen at, and were all the more boring for it.

  When the bridge had become too tedious, and the streaking star field too nauseating, Cal had taken Soonsho through to the kitchen. It had taken a little convincing to get her to follow, but Miz had come, too, which – ironically – seemed to reassure the girl a little.

  “I feel like we haven’t really gotten to know each other,” Cal said, drumming his hands on the table and smiling across at the girl. “Dorid said you can’t talk. That true?”

  Soonsho wrapped her arms across her chest and squeezed, as if she were giving herself a hug. She shook her head.

  “Oh,” said Cal. “You can speak?”

  Another squeeze. A nod, this time.

  “But you don’t. Why not?” asked Cal.

  Soonsho shrugged, then glanced to Miz, who was sitting beside her. After a brief internal struggle, she pointed to her own mouth.

  “Lips. Mouth,” said Cal. “Mouth? Is it something about your mouth? You hurt your mouth!”

  Soonsho shook her head.

  “No, not that. You didn’t hurt your mouth. Is it your teeth? Do you have ugly teeth?”

  “She’s scared she’ll kill someone, or whatever,” said Miz. “Right?”

  Soonsho nodded, guilt setting up camp in the bumpy nodules of her face.

  “How did you work that out?” asked Cal.

  Miz tutted. “Uh, maybe because it’s totally obvious?”

  “Interesting,” said Cal. “Giant pie?”

  He pushed a plate closer to Miz and Soonsho. It required two hands and a reasonable amount of effort. If the last pie slice had been huge, this one was positively ridiculous. It looked like a prop from a stage production of Land of the Giants, and was big enough to feed twenty fully-grown men, or to give ten fully-grown men Type 2 Diabetes.

  “My mom made it,” Cal said. “Or, you know, it was assembled from atoms by kitchen equipment, but apparently that’s pretty much the same thing in this day and age.”

  Neither Soonsho nor Miz, it transpired, wanted any giant pie. Nor did Cal, if he were completely honest. He was seven handfuls into it, but had barely made a dent, and was beginning to wonder what all the fuss had been about. On the one hand, it was delicious. On the other hand, he never wanted to see another piece of banoffee pie for as long as he lived.

  Still, it would be a shame to waste it. He took another scoop and shoveled it into his mouth.

  “What else have you figured out about her?” Cal asked.

  “I don’t know. Not much,” said Miz. “Besides that she was kidnapped by the Xandrie, that she overheard them saying they were going to kill her if they didn’t get their ransom, and that she couldn’t stop herself screaming, which was when they all got pulped.”

  Cal stopped chewing. He swallowed the sugary mush in his mouth. For a moment, he was sure he could actually feel his arteries hardening.

  “How did you figure out all that?”

  “She whispers,” said Miz. Soonsho gawped at her in surprise, then quickly closed her mouth again.

  “She whispers?”

  “All the time. It’s kinda annoying, actually. You can’t hear it, but…” Miz flicked her ears up and spun them in opposite directions. “I’m way more qualified than the rest of you in that department.”

  Cal saw Soonsho as if for the first time. “So we can talk to her? That’s great! Hi,” he said. “I’m Cal. I mean, we’ve done that bit, but… Hi.”

  Soonsho slowly lowered her hand. Her lips moved, just a fraction.

  “She says ‘hi,’” said Miz. She waited until Soonsho’s lips had stopped moving again. “She wants to know if we’re going to hurt her.”

  “What? Us? No! How can she think that? How can you think that? We’re the good guys. We’re taking you home,” said Cal. He said the word again, slowing it right down for emphasis. “Home.”

  “She can’t raise her voice, she’s not brain-damaged,” Miz pointed out.

  “What? No. I know,” said Cal. He reached for more pie, thought better of it, then pushed the plate out of reach. “Uh… ask her if she’s happy to be going home.”

  Miz’s whole face became the dictionary definition of sarcasm.

  “Oh, wait, no, I can ask her myself, can’t I?”

  “Well, duh.”

  Soonsho’s lips moved again. This time, it seemed to go on for some time. Cal watched her mouth, trying to lip-read, but then realized she wasn’t actually speaking English, so the entire exercise was completely pointless.

  Once she stopped, Miz waited a few seconds to make sure there was nothing more, then passed the message on.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” said Cal. “That’s it? All that lip-flapping for ‘yes’?”

  Miz sighed. “There was more, but none of it interesting. Can’t wait to see her parents. Misses her friends. Blah, blah, blah. So, basically, she said ‘yes.’”

  Cal smiled. “Well, tell her we’ll get her home soon,” he said.

  Miz raised a single eyebrow. Cal turned to Soonsho. “We’ll get you home soon,” he said. “And then everything’s going to be OK.”

  Soonsho’s lips moved, just once. “What did she say?” Cal asked.

  “She said, ‘promise?’”

  Cal put a hand on Soonsho�
��s shoulder. This time, she didn’t draw back in fright. “Trust me,” he said. “From here on in, everything’s going to be just fine. No-one’s going to hurt you. We won’t let them. That’s a Cal Carver guarantee, and I don’t just dish those things out.”

  Soonsho stood up. She bit her lip, briefly hugged Cal, then quickly sat back down again. “Thanks, kid,” Cal said. He reached along the table and slowly slid the partially-eaten remains of his giant pie towards her. “Now, tuck in,” he said. “Because this shizz right here? This is going to change your life.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A few more boring hours passed completely normally. Cal spent most of it spinning from side to side in his seat, quietly wishing they’d be attacked by something. Just a little Scriver ship would do it. Or maybe a pirate. He could really go a pirate attack right about now, he thought. It’d give him a chance to shoot his little gun.

  “That’s a point,” said Cal, sitting up in his chair. “Kevin, we should be using this time to show me the guns.”

  “They’re on the wings, sir,” said Kevin. “I expect you’ve already seen them. They’re rather hard to miss.”

  “No, I mean show me how to use them,” said Cal

  “Ah. Yes. That would have been a most productive way of passing the time,” Kevin agreed. “Alas, I fear the opportunity has now passed.”

  “How come?”

  It was Mech who answered. “We’ve arrived,” he said, studying the data flooding the bottom corner of the screen. He still had a piece of banana stuck to the back of his neck, but Cal had decided not to tell him.

  The stars stopped streaking, but this time the deceleration was more ‘gradual slowdown’ than ‘skeleton-snapping’.

  “Way to go, you!” said Cal, leaning forwards and gently punching Loren on the shoulder. “Eyeballs still in sockets, testicles not sticking out through my back – you nailed it.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Loren. “Don’t make me back up and try again.”

  A planet hung like a Christmas bauble in the sky ahead of them, its surface gleaming with shades of metallic red. Most of the planet was in darkness, but a ring of lights surrounded a towering mountain in the far northern hemisphere. There had to be a million glowing pinpricks down there, concentrated closely around the base of the mountain, and becoming thinner and more sparse the further out they went.

  “Kamikaze One,” said Cal in an awed whisper.

  “Now you’re doing it on purpose,” Mech snapped. “You know full fonking well it’s Cantato Minor.”

  “Meh. I like my name better,” said Cal. “So, do we have an address? Or how does this work?”

  A flashing camera icon lit-up in the corner of the screen. “We’re being hailed. It’s the parents,” said Mech.

  “How did they know we were here?” asked Loren.

  “Ah,” said Kevin.

  “Sorry I asked,” Loren sighed.

  “Well don’t just leave them hanging, pick up,” said Cal, sitting up straight and wiping the pie-debris from the front of his shirt. This only resulted in him smearing cream and caramel down himself. He was in the middle of licking his thumb and trying to wipe the worst of it away when he realized two middle-aged Cantatorians were watching him expectantly from the screen.

  “Oh, hey!” said Cal, smoothing down his shirt and waving. “You must be Mr and Mrs Soonsho’s Mom and Dad.”

  “Is she there?” asked the man in a rich voice that immediately made Cal think of sunsets the color of fall. “Our daughter, is she with you?”

  There was a scuffing from the corridor as Soonsho dashed onto the bridge, her eyes shimmering with tears. On screen, the couple went into full meltdown mode. Tears, snot, the works. They hugged each other, and Soonsho reached for the screen, her fingers flapping as if beckoning them towards her.

  “Oh, our baby. Our baby,” sobbed Soonsho’s father. Her mother, meanwhile, bit her lip, presumably to stop herself losing control over her voice. It didn’t matter. Her tears, and the look on her face, said more than any words could.

  “You brought back our baby,” she said in a controlled monotone.

  “Yes, we did,” said Cal. “You’re welcome.”

  “Now, about that reward,” Mech began.

  “Mech, not now. Let’s not cheapen it,” said Cal. He looked from Soonsho to her parents, and felt a warm glow spreading out from his belly. It was possibly the pie, but he didn’t think so. It was something even better. “Let’s just enjoy the moment. We did good, guys. We did good.”

  Soonsho turned to him, her face a picture of relief and joy and everything in between. Cal winked and raised a thumb. “What did I tell you?” he said. “Cal Carver guarantee.”

  * * *

  The Untitled descended slowly, its landing thrusters churning the ground into a sandstorm of swirling red dust beneath it.

  “Easy,” said Cal. “Watch out for all those people.”

  “Shut up,” Loren told him. “I’m nowhere near them.”

  “You’re nowhere near them yet,” said Cal. “Past experience would suggest it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Funny,” said Loren. “They’re well away from the landing pad. I couldn’t land on them if I tried.”

  “Like, don’t put yourself down,” said Miz. “I can pretty much guarantee you’re going to land on at least five of them.”

  “Look, can everyone just shut up?” Loren spat. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

  “I did offer to land for you, ma’am,” Kevin reminded her. “But you were quite adamant.”

  “She needs the practice,” said Miz.

  “I do not!”

  The ship slammed into the ground, grinding the landing gears against the inside of their housings. Outside, the hundreds of assembled Cantatorians ran for cover. Loren released her grip on the sticks, and let her hands flop into her lap. She cleared her throat.

  “Well, maybe just a little,” she admitted.

  Miz snorted, drawing an angry look from Loren.

  “OK, hands up anyone who died on the way here because of my flying,” Loren demanded. “Anyone? No?”

  “I died inside,” said Miz. “Does that count?”

  “No,” said Loren. “It doesn’t.”

  She stood up sharply and looked to Cal. “We going, then?”

  “Alright, alright, hold your horses,” Cal told her. He spun and stood up, then held a hand out to Soonsho. Even she had known to strap herself in when Loren began her descent. She unclipped her belt, and Cal smiled as she took his hand. “Ready kid?”

  Soonsho nodded and let herself be helped up. She took one last look around the bridge, then leaned down low until she could see beneath Cal’s chair. She waved, and a little green hand waved back.

  “You’re honored,” said Cal. “He doesn’t wave at just anyone. I mean, he barely acknowledges Mech even exists. Although, that’s probably because Mech has been ready and willing to leave him for dead on a number of different occasions.”

  “Hey, that ain’t true,” Mech protested.

  “It totally is true,” said Miz.

  Loren nodded in agreement. “He’s right.”

  Mech huffed grumpily. “Well, it’s a blob of goo. I don’t understand why the Hell you’re all so attached to the fonking thing.”

  “We’re not,” said Miz. “He is.”

  Cal grinned. “Guilty as charged.” He squatted down and looked under his chair. Splurt’s eyes gazed back at him from the darkness. “Wait here for now, buddy. Once we know it’s safe, we’ll come get you.”

  “Again, it can change into anything it wants,” Mech pointed out. “It can handle itself.”

  “I just want to make sure he’s safe,” Cal said.

  “You know what you’re doing? You’re stifling the fonking thing,” said Mech. “You’re being overprotective. You’re like one of those moms who’s all, ‘Ooh, ooh, be careful, it’s dangerous out there,’ and the kid’s like, ‘Shizz, mom, I just want to go out and play. Is th
at really too much to ask?’ and then she’s like, ‘But, but there are bad men out there, son. Think about what happened to your father. I can’t let that happen to you, it’d break my heart,’ and the kid’s like, ‘Argh! Seriously, everyone else is out playing. You can’t keep me here forever. I hate you! I wish I’d never been born!’”

  He stopped talking when he realized everyone, including Splurt, was staring at him. Cal shifted uneasily and shot Loren a sideways glance. He cleared his throat. “Uh… I have to ask. Were you the kid in that scenario, Mech?” he asked.

  “What? No!” Mech snorted.

  “It’s just, you painted a very vivid picture,” said Cal.

  “Very vivid,” Loren agreed.

  “I know, right? I mean, it was like…” He held his clenched fist in front of his face, then spread his fingers like an explosion. “Boom! Right there. 3D, coming-atcha.”

  “It wasn’t me, man,” said Mech, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. It was hypothetical, that’s all I’m…”

  He jabbed a finger towards the chair and shouldered his way between Cal and Loren. “You should just let the fonking slimeball come. That’s all I was trying to say.”

  They listened to him clanking along the corridor, then heard a cheer go up as the hatch opened. “That guy is very complicated,” Cal said, gesturing for Loren, Miz and Soonsho to follow. He walked after them, then stopped just inside the door.

  “Ah, what the Hell,” he muttered, then he clicked his tongue against the side of his teeth, as if calling a horse. Splurt sprang happily from under the chair, rolled up Cal’s back, and transformed himself into a large, flamboyant sombrero on the top of his head.

  Cal checked his reflection in the polished chrome panel of the wall, nodded his approval, then followed the others along the corridor and out to face the cheering crowds.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Nobody really paid any attention to Cal when he meandered down the ramp, although his hat did draw a couple of double-takes.

  Instead, the crowd had surged around Soonsho in their hundreds, reaching and grabbing for any parts of her they could get to. Some of them fell over in their eagerness to reach her, only to be trampled over by others pushing through from the back.