Space Team: The Wrath of Vajazzle

by Barry J. Hutchison

  Splurt twitched.

  “OK, then,” said Cal. He rolled up his stained shirt sleeves and cricked his neck a couple of times. “Let’s gun-up, then go save the day.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Cal stepped down from the Shatner’s landing ramp, and immediately found himself at the business end of several mean-looking weapons. They weren’t all guns – he’d have preferred it if they were – but a mixture of rifles, pistols and long-handled spears with angular metal tips that looked like they’d take very little effort to go in, but need a whole lot of yanking and twisting to get back out.

  “Whoa, whoa, easy!” he said, somewhat regretting his decision not to wear the Splurt-armor. It was only when he saw the amber eyes and fuzzy snouts at the other end of the weapons that he relaxed a little. He focused on one of the figures just a few feet away on his right. “It’s us, Kannus. Chill out.”

  “He’s not Kannus. I am,” growled Kannus, from somewhere over on Cal’s left.

  “Oops. Sorry,” said Cal. “You guys kind of look the same to me. But, you know, not in a racist way,” he added, hurriedly. He tried to laugh, but it came out as a hoarse wheeze in the thin atmosphere.

  “Lower your weapons,” Kannus barked, as Mizette trudged down the ramp. As one, the eight or nine other Greyx all pointed their guns and blades to the ground, then lowered their heads and dropped to one knee. “Your Highness,” said Kannus. “You grace us with your presence.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Just get up,” said Miz, as Mech and Loren exited the ship behind her.

  Cal put his hands on his hips and looked around them, nodding slowly. “So,” he said, once the Greyx were all back on their feet. “What’s the big emergency?”

  “Forgive me, Your Highness, but why have you come?” asked Kannus, ignoring Cal completely. “I understood we were to protect Savvon, and you were to attend the keykeeper.”

  “Yeah, but… you called us,” said Miz.

  Kannus’s hairy brow furrowed. He glanced at the other Greyx, then back to Mizette. “No, Your Highness--”

  “I told you, quit calling me that,” Mizette sighed.

  “Forgive me. No… Mizette,” Kannus said, the word sounding awkward in his mouth. “I did not.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Miz insisted. “You called us and told us you needed help. We all heard it. Right, guys?”

  Cal swallowed. “Oh… shizz,” he muttered. His eyes crept to the sky.

  “What? What’s the problem?” asked Mizette. “He called us. We heard him.”

  “We heard someone, sure,” said Cal. “But looks like it wasn’t him.”

  The penny dropped. Miz’s eyes widened. “She tricked us.”

  “Who? Vajazzle?” asked Kannus.

  “She totally tricked us,” Cal agreed. “Man, she’s clever.”

  “Who?” Kannus snapped, his fawning subject act fading fast. He caught Miz by the shoulder and forcibly turned her to face him. “Who tricked you? What is going on? Is Savvon in danger?”

  Miz tried to pull back, but Kannus’s grip was too strong. Cal stepped into the larger Greyx’s line of sight. Splurt pulsed threateningly on his shoulder. “OK, one, who’s Savvon?” said Cal. “And two, take your hands off my friend. Not necessarily in that order.”

  Kannus’s gums curved upwards, showing his sizeable collection of teeth. Behind him, the other Greyx adjusted their grips on their weapons.

  A metal hand clamped down on Kannus’s wrist. “You heard the man,” said Mech. “Let go. Now.”

  Kannus’s eyes narrowed. He held his grip, but relaxed it just enough for Miz to be able to yank her arm free.

  “Amshoop,” she muttered, rubbing her arm, flexing her fingers and shooting Kannus a furious glare all at the same time.

  “There, now we all need to play nice here,” said Cal. “In answer to your question, yes, it’s possible that Vajazzle may have tricked us into coming here, so that she could follow us.” He held up his hands before Kannus could react. “But I’m sure it’s pretty unlikely. Mech, what are the chances it was Vajazzle who set us up?”

  “About ninety-four percent,” said Mech.

  Cal blinked. “Fonk. That high? Seriously?” He sighed and dropped his arms. “I mean, couldn’t you have lied and said, I don’t know, even seventy percent or something? Now everyone’s worried, and – let’s be honest - it’s probably for nothing. If there was another ship up there, our scanners would have picked it up long before--”

  A boom rolled across the sky like thunder as a ship punched through the atmosphere high overhead. Cal clapped his hands once and rubbed them together, as if trying to drive out the cold. “OK, good pep talk, everyone. Now, I’m afraid we’re probably all going to die.”

  “It’s not Vajazzle,” said Miz. To Cal’s surprise, she almost sounded disappointed.

  “What?” he said.

  “It’s not Vajazzle,” Miz said again. She pointed up to the ship growing in the sky above them. “It’s my dad.”

  Cal squinted up at the ship. It was flanked by two smaller ships, and he recognized them all from Kifo. “Hey, that’s great!” he said. “But how did he get here so soon after us? I thought we were, like, five times faster?”

  “He was four-and-a-half times closer,” Loren explained.

  They all craned their necks, blinking in the swirling dust as the ships came in to land. “What a sensible but dull explanation,” said Cal. “Still, better Graxan than Vajazzle.”

  “Except we’re going to look like idiots,” Mech pointed out. “We told him Kannus was in trouble, and Kannus ain’t in no trouble.”

  Cal looked over his shoulder at Miz’s Lifebound. “Could you maybe pretend to be in trouble?” he asked. Kannus’s expression made the answer to that question very clear. “No? No, thought not.” Cal went back to watching Graxan’s ship. “Yeah, we’re going to look like idiots.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cal spotted an eerie white figure with a head like a half-finished skull. Its eyes were set in deep shadow, while its nose was a single triangular hole. It had no mouth to speak of – or to speak with, for that matter – but the skin where it should have been was scarred and puckered, as if there had been a mouth hole there at one point, but it had long since healed up.

  “Wah!” Cal yelped, scrabbling for the blaster pistol slung as his hip. “What the fonk is that?”

  The creature shrunk back, tucking himself behind one of the Greyx soldiers. It was almost naked, aside from a dirty curtain of cloth around its waist, and judging by its concave chest and protruding ribs, was badly in need of a good meal.

  “What are you doing? Stop!” Kannus commanded. “That is Savvon. The keeper of secrets.”

  “I thought the other guy who died was the keeper of secrets?” said Cal.

  “Lontho Oom,” Kannus said. “He was. But there are many secrets to be kept.”

  Savvon peeped out from behind the Greyx and eyed Cal warily. “So, what?” said Cal. “It’s a franchise?”

  “Is that why he doesn’t have a mouth?” asked Loren.

  “He cut off his lips and held the wounds together until they sealed shut,” said Kannus.

  Cal grimaced. “Jesus. That’s deranged.”

  “That’s dedication,” Kannus corrected.

  “Yeah, except if someone really wanted to get info from him they could make him write it…” His voice tailed off as his gaze fell on the scarred stumps at the end of Savvon’s arms. “OK, yeah,” he said, shuffling uneasily. “That’s dedication. I guess.”

  While they had been talking, Graxan and his guard ships had settled on the moon’s surface. A dozen guards – six from each of the smaller ships – raced to meet Graxan’s landing ramp as it slammed into the shale with a vaguely threatening paff. They all marched alongside the Greyx king as he walked down the ramp and picked his way unsteadily across the moon towards Cal and the others.

  Miz looked her father up and down, somethin
g like disbelief etched on her face. “He looks so weak,” she said, louder than she intended. Graxan’s ears twitched, but he otherwise showed no indication that he’d heard her.

  “I was not lying,” said Kannus, a softer edge to his voice now. “He is dying.”

  “But I am not dead yet,” Graxan boomed. He stopped several feet from the rest of the group and looked Kannus up and down. “It seems I am not the only one.” His head shifted a fraction as his eyes locked on his daughter. “Mizette. Explain.”

  Miz scratched the back of her head and shifted awkwardly on the balls of her feet. “Um, well, you see, the thing is…”

  “Spit it out, child!”

  “There’s a chance it all might have been a trick.”

  “But just a chance,” said Cal. “Statistically, quite a high chance, granted, but still just a chance. Nothing definite.”

  “Silence,” spoke Graxan, not bothering to even so much as glance Cal’s way. He narrowed his eyes at Mizette. “Explain.”

  “OK, so we got this message from Kannus,” Miz began. “Asking for help, like we told you.”

  “It wasn’t me,” said Kannus. “I am not in need of help, and if I were, it would not be from…” He looked over at Cal, Mech and Loren. “… the likes of them.”

  “Charming,” said Loren. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Anyway,” said Miz, annoyed by the interruptions. “We spoke to you, then came here expecting to find Vajazzle killing everyone, but…” She gestured around them. “She’s not here.”

  “She’s not here yet,” Graxan growled. “Of course this is a trick. She will have tailed your ship all the way here.”

  “Or… maybe she tailed your ship,” said Cal.

  “Either way, it is your fault we are both here,” Graxan pointed out. “Regardless of whose ship she has followed, the blame lies squarely at your feet.”

  “Fair point, well made,” Cal conceded.

  “We don’t even know if she followed anyone,” said Loren.

  “Of course she did,” Graxan grunted. His gaze shifted to Cal for the first time since he’d arrived. “I assume you haven’t brought the key?”

  Cal raised his eyebrows. “Hmm?”

  “The key,” said Graxan. “The key we wish to keep out of Vajazzle’s hands. I assume you put it somewhere safe?”

  Cal rotated his hips just a fraction until he could feel the sliver of rectangular metal in his back pocket. “Um… funny story,” he began, but a powerful clawed hand was around his throat before he could say any more. He kicked and struggled as Kannus hoisted him cleanly into the air.

  “Tell me you didn’t bring it!” Kannus barked. “Tell me even you aren’t that stupid!”

  “Kannus, that is enough,” said Graxan. “Put him down.”

  “He has jeopardized everything. All of us!” Kannus growled, flecks of foam forming at the corners of his mouth. “He has put our entire species at risk.”

  “Cut it out, Kannus!” Miz snapped. Behind her, Mech and Loren raised their weapons. All around them, Kannus’s guards raised theirs, too.

  Graxan’s guards, not quite sure what to do or who to aim at, decided to do nothing whatsoever and just hope it all worked itself out in the end.

  Cal hacked and coughed, his fingertips trying to force their way between Kannus’s hand and his own constricted windpipe. The tiny gulps of air he could get were weedy and thin. Breathing in the moon’s ‘tolerable’ atmosphere was hard enough without a massive wolf-man choking the life out of him.

  “We should send him to Zertex in pieces,” Kannus said, still holding Cal aloft. “It would be simpler. We owe him nothing.”

  Graxan took a single step forwards. He shot Kannus’s guards the briefest of glances and they lowered their weapons at once. “He is under my protection,” the Greyx king said, the words rumbling from his mouth like thunder. “I gave you an order. Do you dare to disobey me?”

  Kannus’s eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits. He released his grip and Cal fell, gasping and wheezing, onto the hard ground.

  “That… that was the signal,” he croaked, giving Splurt a prod. “What happened to the battle armor, buddy?”

  “Cal, are you OK?” Miz asked, dropping to her haunches beside him. “Are you hurt?”

  “Only my pride,” said Cal. “And my throat. And, to a lesser extent, my buttocks and most of my torso.”

  Kannus snorted, but there was no humor in it. “Look at you. Crouching in the dirt with that mongrel. You shame yourself. You shame me.”

  “OK,” puffed Cal, using Mizette’s arm and Mech’s leg to pull himself to his feet. “OK, that does it.” He raised his fists in front of his face. “Come at me, you big jerk. Let’s see what you got.”

  “Enough,” said Graxan, his snout wrinkling in irritation.

  “He challenges me, Great Graxan,” said Kannus, eyeballing Cal and baring his teeth. “He must be put in his place.”

  Graxan’s face twisted into a grimace of fury. “I said that is enough!” he roared, then a fit of coughing wracked through his body, rasping in his lungs. Tentatively, Miz reached out to take his arm. At first, he yanked it away, but then he rested his elbow in her grip.

  “Your passion does you credit, Kannus,” Graxan said, once he could speak again. “Your disobedience does not. I am still your king, and you will do as I say.”

  Kannus seemed to chew on his tongue, then lowered his head in a sharp bow. “Of course, Your Majesty. My apologies.”

  “We will speak no more of it,” said Graxan. He began to turn away, but then turned back. “Oh, and Kannus?”

  “Your Majesty?”

  Graxan leaned closer. “Lifebound or not, if you speak to my daughter in that tone again, I shall tear out your throat with my bare hands.” He watched him for a moment, making sure he wasn’t about to argue, then gave a single nod.

  “Now,” Graxan said, sweeping his gaze across the sky. “Have we picked up any traces of Vajazzle?”

  “No, Great Graxan,” replied one of his guards.

  Mech checked the scanner on his arm. “I’m patched into the ship. I’m getting nothing.”

  “Maybe she didn’t follow us,” said Loren.

  “Then why set up the fake SOS?” asked Cal.

  Loren shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t. There might be a perfectly straightforward explanation for it.”

  “For us getting a distress call from Kannus that he didn’t send?” said Cal.

  “I said there might be a perfectly straightforward explanation,” Loren pointed out. “I didn’t say I knew what it was.”

  “She’s definitely not up there,” said Mech, rechecking the scanners.

  “Could she be cloaked?” asked Cal.

  Everyone’s brow seemed to furrow at once. “What does it matter what she’s wearing?” asked Loren.

  “No, I mean her ship. Could it be cloaked? As in, like, invisible?”

  From their expressions, it was clear everyone was still confused. He pressed on. “Like, she presses a button and the ship goes all shimmery then disappears.” He waved his arms in front of himself in a way designed to convey the word ‘shimmery,’ but which was ultimately unsuccessful. “You know? Cloaked.”

  “What is he talking about?” said Kannus, asking the question on everyone’s lips. “How can a ship turn invisible?”

  “It’d have to be a pretty big cloak to cover her entire ship,” said Loren.

  “No, not an actual cloak!” Cal said, then he sighed. “Forget it, doesn’t matter. If she isn’t cloaked, then I guess she’s not…”

  He spun towards Savvon. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You! Creepy mouth guy.”

  Savvon shrunk back, his sunken eyes darting around at the others. “You know where the vault is, don’t you? Don’t you?”

  “He can’t speak,” Kannus reminded him.

  “No, but he can nod or something, can’t he?”

&
nbsp; “He cannot,” said Graxan. “In order to prevent himself revealing his secrets, he has metal rods fusing his neck so he cannot move his head.”

  “OK, then blink once for yes, twice for—”

  “He has removed his own eyelids,” Graxan said. “That he may not inadvertently reveal that which has been entrusted to him.”

  “Holy shizz, that is all kinds of messed up. There’s such a thing as taking a job too seriously, you know?” Cal said. He dodged past Kannus until he was standing in front of Savvon. “OK, you’re on an uninhabited moon, living in a…” He gestured to the rock and plastic tarp construction. “… whatever that is. It’s got to be here, hasn’t it? The vault. That’s why you’re here. It’s not like you’d be able to give detailed directions to its whereabouts if it was somewhere across the galaxy, so it has got to be here, right?”

  Kannus tutted. “He can’t speak.”

  “Raise your right arm for yes, left arm for no,” Cal instructed. “Is the vault with the bladestick here on--?”

  “Bladestaff,” Graxan and Miz corrected at the same time.

  “Whatever,” Cal said. “Is the vault with the blade thing nearby?”

  Savvon didn’t do much to suggest he understood, and Cal was about to ask the question again when the shriveled figure slowly raised his right arm.

  “OK, yes, that’s a yes,” said Cal. “Where is it?”

  “He can’t tell you, you imbecile!” barked Kannus. “He can’t speak!”

  “No, but he can fonking point!” said Cal. He glanced at the scarred stumps where Savvon’s hands had been. “You know, in vaguely the right direction, at least.”

  “He shall not. I forbid it,” said Graxan. “The location of the Bladestaff must remain a secret.”

  “But that’s just it, it isn’t a secret,” said Cal. “Vajazzle messed up our communications and faked that message from Kannus because she knew we’d lead her here.”