by K. C. Carter
Mrs. Zilmore decided to finally allow Brona an answer. She liked to make her wait. The girl was very clever but needed to learn patience. Just as Mrs. Zilmore was forming her next question there was a haunting scream. Her attention snapped from the silverback gorilla to her communicator. One of the lights had turned yellow and pulsed faster than the others. One glance at the group confirmed her suspicions. Shun! Her eyes darted about the room. She caught sight of something a little way off. It was a lit-up case with a child on the floor in front of it. She pushed through the confused group and ran to the boy.
“Are you okay Shun?” She picked him up off the floor, and he threw his arms around her legs, clutching at her skirt as he sobbed. She was about to ask what was wrong when she noticed what the glass case held.
“I didn’t know they had one of those down here,” she whispered, trying not to swallow the lump in her throat.
The group had gathered around. Some of the children whimpered and others outright cried.
“Does anyone know what this is?” She asked, giving in and swallowing hard. She hoped they didn’t know, for their sakes as much as hers, but something told her they knew exactly what it was.
“It’s horrible.” Miss Beazley’s voice trembled.
Mrs. Zilmore couldn’t blame her.
“Very true.” She gulped again. “It’s the reason all the others creatures in here are extinct. Anyone know what it’s called?” She thought she was handling things well until she noticed her ghostly reflection in the glass. Her blue face had taken on a sickly white hue.
“It’s a human!” Brona cried out.
It was clear, by her quivering voice, that she took no pride in knowing the answer to that question.
Mrs. Zilmore often wished she’d seen a human in the flesh. Now that she was staring one straight in the eyes, she wished she hadn’t. For those eyes were full of hunger. And they stared straight back.
Into Infinity
Vorga’s greater moon dipped behind the Forever Mountains. Asra Volta watched the scene nonchalantly with his legs draped over a rocky outcrop high above Lake Infinity. The heavenly luminaries appeared as mere child’s drawings in the sky when compared to the lake’s reflection of them. Asra didn’t know how it worked or why. All he knew was that it had come to be known as the perflection effect, and it was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen.
The outcrop was his favorite coffee spot and was definitely one job’s many benefits. Infinity rangers enjoyed a number of perks, which was only fair given the risks. The money was great, they only had to work a half-year, and when they retired they received one of the best pensions in the Galaxy. What Asra liked most was Vorga’s remoteness. It was a planetoid in a little-known corner of the Galaxy and that meant people rarely visited. Asra wasn’t a big fan of people.
So it was with more than a little annoyance that he received a call from his superiors two days prior, informing him a visitor from planet Tagresh was on the way. The official at the Scientific Confederation of Colonies and Planets headquarters supplied few details other than it was a high profile journalist and that Asra was to take particularly good care of her for the duration of her stay: one Vorgan week. Asra had never been happier that a week on Vorga lasted only three galactic days.
He looked over his shoulder and waved at Uttu Nalamu as she photographed the moonset from further back. The noise her camera made broke the otherwise perfect silence. Click. Click. Click. It was driving him nuts.
Uttu arrived by shuttle the night before with nothing but a single pack strapped to her back. He hadn’t seen a Tagreshan before and to say he was taken aback by her appearance would be an understatement. She cut a figure similar in size and form to Asra, which was just as well since they only stocked one type of infinosuit at the ranger station. It wouldn’t have been much of a visit had she been confined to the building the whole week. Not that it would have bothered Asra.
What did bother him, though, was her otherworldly appearance. For one thing, Uttu’s skin was olive and smooth. A long, black, fibrous substance also hung from her head. She explained it was called hair and that most Tagreshans had it. To Asra, it was a collection of dead cells that served no apparent purpose other than to get in the way. He had never seen anything quite like it. Uttu also sported orifices of varying shapes and sizes on what could only have been her face. Two of these apertures were occupied by jelly-like globular things that moved about ominously. From what he could tell, they were Tagreshan sensory organs. Uttu’s body followed a curvilinear path and, she sported two rather peculiar protuberances on her upper torso. At that point, Asra decided to stop staring as he sensed that Uttu was growing uncomfortable under his gaze.
The problem was, he couldn’t figure out what exactly made her a female of her species. In the end, he resolved not to ask in case it was a cause for offense in Tagrshan culture. Some species were funny that way.
If Uttu was a typical example of a Tagreshan, he decided they were an ugly race altogether. He had seen uglier creatures, of course, but he was still thankful Uttu would be spending most of her time on Vorga in an infinosuit.
Asra yawned deeply and cracked his neck from side to side. He spent most of the night installing Uttu’s neural projectocom implant. The NPI was a necessary evil given it was their only means of communication. It was a rare occasion when members of different sentient races shared similar sensory organs and—though it was the subject of many contentious and unsettled philosophical disputes—the one anatomical mechanism all races did have in common was a central neural processor in one form or another. In the case of the Tagreshan, it was called a brain. Understandably, when the NPI was invented, it quickly became the preferred method of communication since it allowed any two—or more—creatures wearing a set to share thoughts and experiences. What kind of experiences one was allowed to share was tightly controlled by the Scientific Confederation of Colonies and Planets. And like any organization run by old people who thought far too much of themselves, the SCCP sucked the fun out of everything.
According to the NPI instruction manual, the part of the brain that controlled a Tagreshan’s speech was in the frontal left lobe. This complicated things since infinosuit helmets clearly hadn’t been designed with Tagreshan anatomy in mind. Asra ended up installing the implant at an odd angle, which took a lot longer than expected. That was followed by infinosuit orientation, which Uttu insisted she went through sooner rather than later. His head was still foggy from the lack of sleep but that was why the universe created coffee.
Early on, the universe realized that primitives would one day develop the ability to traverse great times and distances and, if left without a suitable stimulant, would be liable to do something profoundly stupid like breaking the second law of thermodynamics. Such folly would in turn cause the heat death of the universe. Much like said primitives, the universe didn’t want to die. Unlike said primitives, it was within the universe’s power to do something about it.
Of course, none of this occured to Asra as he savored one last sip before pouring the dregs over the cliff edge. He held the cup against his left thigh, and it melted into his suit.
“The view is best from over here, you know,” he called to Uttu.
“It’s okay, I’ve got what I need.”
“Suit yourself.”
Obviously afraid of heights. But he didn’t dare press the matter. A complaint on his record would look bad when it came to his annual review. It was probably just as well she stayed at a safe distance anyway since she hadn’t fully adapted to the infinosuit’s sensory interface. This resulted in her movements being a bit clumsy. The last thing Asra needed was to inform the SCCP that the important Tagreshan dignitary they sent had broken half her bones after falling off a cliff. Infinosuit or not, it was a long way down. There hadn’t been any serious incidents on Vorga in a long time, and the SCCP were keen on keeping it that way. Accidents meant bad press, and bad press meant a hold on funding. If he let an influential jo
urnalist fall to her death, they would put his head on a stick but only after beating him with it first.
“Shall we head to the lake?” He suggested, suddenly feeling a bit clammy.
“Yes please.”
“This way then.” He started back down the steep, winding path that led back to the ranger station.
“May I ask a few questions?” She asked.
“Something in the way you ask tells me I don’t have a choice.”
“Your superiors promised full disclosure and cooperation. But it’s always nice to ask.”
“If you must.”
Uttu dug in her bag and produced a thought-capturing device. She kept it pointed at his NPI as they walked.
“How did you become an Infinity ranger? I’m told very few are selected for the role.”
“It’s a bit of an unusual story, really.” He would have preferred to talk about anything other than himself.
“The best stories always are,” she insisted.
Asra was in no mood for arguing.
“I’m from planet Krill. I was a micro clam fisherman there, on the great river Coonga. There’s not much meat on micro clams, but they are a delicacy among my people and can fetch a pretty price if you know the right buyer. I could swim much deeper than anyone else in the village: right into the middle of the Coonga where the current was strongest.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“It was. But the smallest clams lived in the middle and, the smaller the clam the higher the price. Anyway, the SCCP were scouting for candidates in the area, one day. They like us krillians. We have the largest skin surface area in the known galaxy. Being covered in tiny tendrils helps. More nerve endings mean we interface more effectively with the suits. They heard that I was the best swimmer in town. So, they looked me up and offered me a place on the training program. Next thing I know, I’m talking to a Tagreshan about how I got the job.”
“What has swimming got to do with being an Infinity ranger? I thought everything that went into Lake Infinity disappeared.”
Asra shrugged.
“Beats me. Like I said, it was an unusual story.”
“It must have been hard to leave your home behind.”
“Not really. Don’t have anyone back on Krill. Parents died: dragged away by the Coonga when I was just a shrimp. Besides, I couldn’t say no to the salary.”
“That much, huh?”
“Seven million credits for half a year’s work.” He puffed out his chest.
“That’s more money than most people make in a lifetime.”
“Like I said, I couldn’t say no. But the numbers do reflect the occupational hazards.”
“Hazards?”
“Well, there’s the cosmic radiation exposure for a start.”
Uttu stopped and stared at him.
“Don’t worry. The suits protect us on short trips, but who knows what that stuff’s cooking when you spend a half-year in it?”
Uttu’s body language told him she wasn’t convinced. They continued the descent—half walking and half sliding down the steep hill, pebbles rattling under foot.
“Then there’s the wildlife. Most of it’s harmless and stays away from the lake. Now and then, though, a wild mastradon makes an appearance.”
“Mastradon?”
“Big beasts. All claws and teeth and tusks. I’ve only ever seen one from a distance, thankfully. They’re very territorial and most dangerous.”
“What do you do if you come across one of those?”
“You run. But don’t worry. Even mastradons are afraid of Infinity and so they stay away.”
“I wish I could say that was reassuring.”
“If you are going to be worried about one thing here, it should be that lake. As you said, if you fall in there, there’s no coming back. Even if only the smallest part of you goes beneath the surface, it’s gone for good.”
“The suits won’t protect us from that?”
“Unlikely. They sank three probes a few years back, made of the same stuff as the suits. They were supposed to be state of the art tech, equipped with a special device to make them return. The SCCP spent years and billions of credits building them.”
“What happened?”
“Same thing that always happens. They disappeared; they didn’t return in the end.”
They rounded a bend and the ranger outpost came into view. It was an ugly gray building half-carved into the side of the rock face. The roof was a black pin cushion of antennas, satellite dishes, and other equipment. They turned another sharp bend and continued downhill. The path eventually leveled out as they approached the lake.
Asra welcomed a lull in the conversation when Uttu took more pictures.
Click. Click. Click.
Then again, maybe I preferred the talking.
The shoreline almost seemed constructed: as if some giant hand had carved a bath out of the smooth black rock.
“It’s so still. What is it?” Uttu looked out onto the water.
“The water? No one knows.” Asra threw a rock and it disappeared without a trace. It made no sound or ripple. It was simply gone.
“Fascinating,” she whispered.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“The stories are true. The reflection is much more vibrant than what it’s reflecting. How is that even possible?”
“Something else no one knows. I have scientists down here every few weeks trying to figure this stuff out. All I know is it’s called the perflection effect.”
“Perflection effect?”
“The explorer who discovered the lake was called Dr. Guadostopallomolla Anahallellulaonattabulla. He wanted to name it the Anahallellulaonattabulla effect.”
“Naturally.”
“He also wanted to name the area Lake Guadostopallomolla.”
“They didn’t let him?”
“Actually, those are the official names, but no one uses them. The first rangers came up with their own names, and the scientific community still hasn’t figured out why the official names didn’t stick.”
“Why did the first rangers call it Lake Infinity?”
“Back then, they had a theory that the lake is actually a window into another universe and that our universe is merely its reflection.”
“The first rangers sound like the philosophical type. What happened to them?”
“Most retired.”
“Most?”
“Like I said, occupational hazards.”
Uttu grunted then pressed a button on her camera and three thin legs grew out of the bottom.
“Do you mind if we get a picture together?”
“If I have to.” He reluctantly walked to where she pointed.
She pressed a button on the camera then joined him before the lake. A little orange light flicked on the camera.
“On three then,” she said. “One, two, three.”
Instead of the annoying click, there was a high pitched screech, an explosive wind, and a flurry of dust.
Asra already figured out what had happened before his backside hit the black rock. But by then, it was already too late. The camera was gone and so was the nurren. Nevertheless, his reflexes took hold and he sprang to his feet, fission pistol in hand. He made sure it was safe before the pistol melted back into his forearm. He offered his hand and helped Uttu back to her feet.
“My camera?” Her thoughts screamed with panic in his head.
“It was a nurren. They like shiny things. Your lens must have attracted it. Strange, though, they normally don’t come this far east of the mountains.”
“My camera!” Uttu ignored him.
She must be in shock.
He quickly scanned her vitals. Little charts, numbers, and various symbols flashed across his visor. Everything looked okay, but her heart rate was climbing.
“The fastest creature in the galaxy. No hope of catching it. Not even with the enhanced speed of these suits,” he said in an effort to distract her. It didn’t work
.
“My camera.” She sounded even more desperate.
There was another high-pitched screech far in the distance. Uttu looked in the direction of the faint cry. Asra stretched out his hand to gently shake Uttu out of it.
“Like I said—.”
There was a little whir, another puff of dust, and she was gone.
“Dammit!” he cursed into the mental void left behind.
She had kicked her infinosuit into overdrive. From the trail of dust left in her wake, Asra saw she had eaten up miles between him and the Forever Mountains. The power pack on his back pinged, and he accelerated after her. No one had gone into those mountains since the early days. And for good reason.
Having mastered the suit better than any novice, it didn’t take him long to catch up. He was impressed that she had managed not to crash given her lack of stability when moving at normal speed. He pulled up alongside her: close enough to establish a new link.
“What do you think you’re doing? I told you, overdrive was only to be used in an emergency!”
“This is an emergency!”
“Slow down before you get us both killed!”
“I’m not stopping until I have that camera!”
“You’ll never outrun a nurren. It’s just a camera for crying out loud!”
It was no use. Asra didn’t like the idea of messing with someone’s suit while it was in overdrive, but he didn’t plan on losing his job—or worse—just because a flightless bird stole someone’s camera. He pulled in behind Uttu and reached out for the generator on her back. All he had to do was lift the silver flap and flick the manual override switch. He never reached it. Instead, the world spun. Colors and shapes bled together. There were cracks and rumbles. He felt like he was repeatedly kicked from various angles. Then it stopped.