Rescue From Planet Pleasure

by Mario Acevedo

  The door opened and the boarding ramp lowered. Moots said, “Follow me,” and glided down the ramp. Outside, a hover scooter waited for her.

  Carmen and I helped a rubber-limbed Toby to his feet. We hobbled down the ramp, wary of our surroundings, then halted to take in the magnificence of what we saw. A gigantic yellow orb dominated a sky blacker than I’d ever seen. A ring of gold surrounded the orb.

  Toby broke free enough from his drug-induced euphoria to crane his neck back and gape at the orb. “D-Galtha.”

  Carmen explained, “We’re on one of its moons.”

  Shiny curves of light reflected inside an enormous bubble that encased us. Another flying saucer approached the bubble. The ship passed through the bubble’s walls like a platter slipping through soapy film and then landed on the other side of our saucer.

  The immediate landscape was dusty gray, littered with rocks and pockmarked with craters. An igloo-shaped structure, the same gray color as the dirt and maybe two stories tall, stood before us. A glass and metal tube connected the landing pad to a door of the igloo.

  Moots levitated onto the scooter and swung the back end toward us. “Put Toby onboard.”

  Carmen and I helped him up and into the wire basket behind Moots. Toby sat down cross-legged and rested his Q-Tip hands on his knees. Moots wiggled forward against the scooter’s controls to make room. “Get on.”

  Carmen and I climbed behind her and stood side-by-side. We wrapped our arms around Moots’ middle, which was hard and smooth like fiberglass. She tooted the scooter’s horn, and we zipped forward. I glanced back at the flying saucer and suspected it might be harder that I thought to steal one. I looked up at D-Galtha. “Long way to the nurse’s office, don’t you think? I’d figure you guys, being the smart ones, would have more convenient medical facilities.”

  “I just work here,” Moots replied.

  The igloo door opened. Moots steered the hover scooter inside. As soon as we stopped, the floor sank, and we descended a deep shaft. That god-awful Nancharm music played through an unseen speaker.

  “Catchy tune, don’t you agree?” Moots asked, her back to us.

  Carmen put an extra-sarcastic spin to her eye roll. “Quite lovely.”

  “It’s a sad song,” Moots explained. “About a great Nancharm hero who ran out of ammunition and had to let some of the enemy escape.” She sighed. “Such heartbreak.”

  “Don’t you have any love songs?” I asked.

  “We have many songs about love,” Moots replied enthusiastically. “Songs about a Nancharm’s love for victory. Songs about the love of watching your vanquished enemy tremble in terror.” Her head swiveled around. “The love of a good blaster.”

  The sight of her head rotating like this freaked me out. “But what about songs of love for one another?” I muttered, trying to act nonplussed by her backwards-facing head. “Romance. Desire. Get you in the mood.”

  Moots turned her head back around. “Mood for wha—” She interrupted herself with a chuckle. “Oh that. Sex. Of course.”

  “The Nancharm have different courting rituals,” Carmen said, emphasizing a flat tone that told me to drop the subject.

  The elevator slowed and stopped. The wall in front of us parted, and we rode the scooter out of the shaft and into a corridor. Unlike the other Nancharm structures, these walls weren’t smooth but undulated with translucent white bumps. The bumps might have been ice or crystal buildup, but as we passed, I picked out bones beneath the surface. “Those fossils?”

  “Hardly,” Moots chimed. “Those are the remains from various other species. The Zupatz. The Gleeglee. The Hi-Pa’an … all guests.”

  “Guests?” I replied.

  “They were guests. Then they became prisoners of war. They objected to the conditions of the mining camp here, rioted, and our guards were forced to contain the troubles. Rather than atomize the corpses, someone decided to decorate the walls with their remains. Quite attractive and inventive, don’t you think?”

  I answered yes, though my kundalini noir quivered in horror. Maybe at the end of the research, the chalices and us vampires would be turned into wall art. And I wondered why they hadn’t yet added Earth dwellers to their trophies.

  We cruised past open doors and through several intersections. In the other corridors, clusters of Nancharm glided past on their “feet” or on hover scooters. On occasion, some of them tooted their horns and Moots tooted back. The ambiance was like being in a busy office complex, a hamster cage of constant motion.

  Moots drove around a corner and into an atrium filled with a dazzling white light. Glass cabinets and rows of pipes and cables lined the walls. Bizarre instruments jutted from pedestals.

  She halted by two other Nancharm standing beside a padded table that looked very much like one in a doctor’s examination room. Neither of these Nancharm wore a translator/cap and when their tendrils waved and puffed in animated conversation. Naturally I couldn’t understand a thing.

  A hologram materialized between them and us. One of the other Nancharm touched a button on the hologram. A pedestal slid toward Toby. The instrument on top looked like a combination giant microscope and metal cockroach. The “legs” quivered. The carapace opened and revealed a glassy cylinder that pulsed with a green light.

  Toby levitated from the scooter and floated toward the table where he was laid flat on its long cushion. Metal straps scrolled out from the sides of the table, extended across his lower legs, thighs, torso, arms, neck, and tightened like tentacles.

  The cockroach closed upon one of Toby’s gauzy mitten hands. The legs extended and seized his wrist. Its mandibles opened and closed. The vacant haze on Toby’s face evaporated. His skin flushed crimson, and the pupils of his eyes sharpened to points that locked on the cockroach’s jaws.

  I didn’t appreciate the Nancharm’s bedside manner and clenched my fists to prevent my talons from sprouting. Carmen clasped my arm to keep me calm. I turned toward Moots and saw those inert white eyes of hers staring at me.

  “Something the matter?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “You seem bothered by this,” she insisted.

  “Should I be? I’m sure it’s a routine medical procedure.”

  “There is nothing routine about what we do.” Moots rested her hand on my shoulder. She drummed her long, ropy fingers and they each tapped me with a menacing heft, like individual leather saps. “If you think this is disturbing, imagine what happens to subjects who don’t behave themselves.” Her fingers snaked around my neck and she said, “Especially to those who try to escape.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I fixed my stare directly into Moots’ white, bottomless eyes. How did she know I was planning to escape?

  Moots returned my gaze with laser-like intensity. But good luck to her if she wanted to win a staring contest with a vampire.

  Everything in the room seemed to rotate on the axis of our glare. After a long, dramatic moment, she broke focus and withdrew her hand from around my neck.

  “Very well,” she said. “So you’re not planning to escape?”

  “How could I?”

  “I don’t know. I still haven’t figured how you and Jolie got here. There’s no record of you two being processed through inventory control or alien-species quarantine.”

  “Is that my fault?”

  A loud huffing distracted us. One of the other Nancharm—head tendrils fluffing in agitation—stared at Moots and pointed at Toby as if asking Are you done? Can we get back to work?

  Moots emitted an irritated chuff through her translator-cap. She turned to Carmen. “I’m holding you responsible.”

  Carmen crossed herself. “Felix will behave himself. Scout’s honor.”

  One of the other two Nancharm got busy with the menu on the holographic control panel. The cockroach device on the pedestal chewed and swallowed the gauzy wrapping on Toby’s hand. His fingers splayed apart. A red gash ran up his wrist, a wound maybe fo
ur inches long. The exposed flesh was red and raw but didn’t bleed. The cockroach’s mandibles oozed yellow goop into the wound, then began to ratchet along the gash, stitching it closed.

  The straps holding Toby popped loose and retracted into the table. His body stiffened and elongated as if in rigor mortis, but his eyes still shined with life. An arm swung up from the foot of the table. The end of the arm had a leathery three-fingered claw. A similar arm extended from the head of the table. Both sets of claws clamped on him, one on his feet, the other around his skull. He was lifted and rotated like a pig on a spit until he faced the table. His other hand was now closer to the cockroach device. It repeated the first-aid procedure, and the wounds on both of Toby’s wrists were mended.

  “All done?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” Moots replied.

  The cockroach device folded its legs tight to its body and scooted away from the table. Another device slid forward. This one looked like a praying mantis. The Nancharm must really be into bugs.

  The triangular head of this device swiveled, its antennae twitched, and the two bulging eyes opened to reveal binocular lenses that zoomed in on the scars down Toby’s spine and at the back of his neck. The mantis’ arms stretched forward, and a multitude of blades unfolded from the ends, Edward Scissorhands-style. Toby’s shirt was cut to ribbons and the shredded cloth was sucked up a tube to expose his naked torso.

  As the blades approached the back of Toby’s neck, my skin started to crawl. Two blades extended past the others, glowed red, and touched his neck scars. The tips of the blades sank into his skin. Toby gulped and spit drooled from his lips. I glanced at Carmen for her reaction. She watched the blades, but her face remained free of emotion.

  The blades proceeded to slice open Toby’s scars. The wounds on his neck resembled little crimson mouths, mute and yet screaming obscenities. The skin along his backbone was peeled open, revealing a wiring harness braided into his vertebrae. The Nancharm watched an image of his brain and spinal column on their hologram.

  If their intent was to give me the big freak-out, it was working. “Are you cutting him open for my benefit?” I asked solemnly.

  “Of course not.” Moots laughed. “Honestly Felix, you’re not that important. The Erection Analysis Committee needs his diagnosis implants replaced. Toby’s attempt at self-destruction pushed the sending units off their calibration scale.”

  The mantis device replaced grain-sized implants from his neck and spinal wiring harness. It lowered its head to upchuck goop over his incisions and sew them shut. The mantis head moved to his shoulder. A needle-like tongue shot from between its jaws and pierced his skin. The praying mantis retracted all of its blades and tongue and pulled away from Toby.

  The claws holding his feet and head let go simultaneously and he plopped face-first on the table. Barnyard animals got treated with more dignity.

  His skin began to glow a rosy pink. Head wobbling, he blinked himself back to alertness and pushed up from the table.

  Moots and the other Nancharm exchanged displays of puffed tendrils. She slid toward the hover scooter. “Back to work. We’ve wasted enough time for one day.”

  Carmen and I helped Toby slide off the table. Red welts marked his fresh scars.

  “You have another shirt for him?” Carmen asked.

  “Let’s see what’s in Lost-and-Found.” Moots opened a drawer in a wall cabinet and pulled out a white shirt. “Try this.”

  I helped Carmen slide the shirt over Toby’s arms and shoulders and button the front. Surprisingly, the shirt fit fine except that it had four sleeves.

  Toby smiled at Carmen and his gaze roved hungrily over her breasts.

  “He’s looking horny,” I noted.

  “It’s a side effect of the drug,” she replied.

  “Seemed potent. Why don’t the Nancharm use it on themselves?”

  “The men have tried, but their DNA is too screwed up.”

  Toby brushed us away and stood tall. His muscles flexed with renewed vigor. “Carmen, have I ever said that I love you?”

  She clasped his hand. “And I love you too.” She said this the way you might to a dog.

  “I mean, I really, really love you.” He pointed to the bulge in his pants. “I mean like right now.”

  She smiled at him, then at me. I didn’t understand what she meant by the look, other than to expect something. She clasped his upper arms, stood on tiptoe, and stretched up toward his neck. Her fangs snapped out and she put her open mouth to the side of his throat.

  Toby went, Uggh, his eyes rolled back, and he fell toward me.

  I caught him. Carmen spit out his blood, saying, “Whatever shit they put in him, I don’t need.” She motioned to the wire basket on the back of the scooter. I lowered him in, legs dangling over one end, head over the other. Blood dotted his fang marks. Carmen and I climbed behind Moots, and she drove us out of the lab.

  We wended through the corridors and up the elevator. A different flying saucer waited for us outside. This one was Frisbee-shaped with no spherical central body. It hovered on pillars of faint green light. A ramp beckoned.

  We ascended the ramp and entered a small room cramped with boxes and large tube containers. Moots directed Carmen and me to stuff Toby feet first into a clear tube that swung up against the wall. She dismounted the scooter and it disappeared on its own down the ramp.

  “For the flight back you two might want to get comfortable.” Moots panned the compartment. “But not here. Come with me.”

  She turned toward the wall. A panel swooshed open to let us pass. We followed Moots down a tall, narrow corridor that curved around and around. Another door opened and we entered what had to be the flying saucer’s command bridge.

  I was not sure what the crew were, but they looked like a couple of pint-sized elephants resting on their bellies on top of side-by-side cradle-like couches. They faced a wide screen. Lights blinked along a console below. Levers protruded from the floor around the couches.

  One of the elephants turned toward us. Its enormous brown eyes peeled open. The trunk curled over its head and let out an eye-splitting trumpeting. The other elephant also looked and trumpeted. The first elephant sat up and used the large hands on its forelegs to unbuckle straps clipped to a body harness. Myriad gold rings pierced its ears, and bejeweled golden hoops decorated its thick wrists and fingers. A tasseled skirt of satiny burgundy and gold draped its hindquarters.

  The creature slid from the couch and scrambled toward us on all fours, its metallic jewelry clicking and clacking. I waited, wary, but Carmen beamed a welcome. The creature reached up with its trunk and snatched the translator-cap from Moots’ head. Moots tried to grab the cap but the creature hip checked her with its broad caboose.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “Blossom,” Carmen answered. “One of the Wah-zhim. She was my first owner among the aliens.”

  Other than the trunks, I remembered Carmen informing me that the Wah-zhim had ginormous prehensile pudenda, which was thankfully covered by Blossom’s voluminous skirt.

  She wiggled her big can to keep Moots at bay. Moots’ tendrils shook in silent fury as she groped for the cap. Blossom chuffed through her trunk. Moots retreated and dropped her arms. Blossom must’ve told her in Nancharm to back the fuck off.

  Blossom placed the translator-cap on her head. She traced the tip of her trunk across Carmen’s face, the touch tender as kisses. “Carmen, Carmen, I missed you so much.” Her voice bleated out the cap.

  “And I missed you.” Carmen clasped the trunk to her face.

  Blossom slithered her trunk from Carmen and pointed it at me. “Who are you?”

  “Felix Gomez,” Carmen answered. “A long-time friend.”

  “Well, you’re not as pretty as Carmen.” Blossom’s trunk wrapped around my neck—it was heavy and very strong—and pulled me off balance. “But you look like fun. Lots of fun.”

  Shuffling my feet to stay upright, I gulped nervously. I wasn’t as open-
minded about these matters as Carmen.

  Blossom withdrew her trunk but kept her big, soft eyes on me.

  “What are you doing here?” Carmen asked.

  “Gotta make a living. Build the ship. Fly the ship. Rinse and repeat.” Blossom raised her out-sized hands, set them on Carmen’s and my shoulders and gently pulled us close. Her translator-cap whispered. “Actually, I’ve been looking for you, Carmen. It wasn’t right that the Nancharm took you away from me.”

  “If you think I’m returning to Wah-zhim, think again.”

  Blossom’s eyes saddened.

  “But it good to see you again,” Carmen said. She grasped Blossom’s trunk and brought the tip to her face. Blossom hunched forward until the translator cap brushed Carmen’s ear. It looked like Blossom was whispering something to Carmen, but I wasn’t sure. Carmen kissed around the end of the trunk and let go.

  Blossom caressed Carmen’s face. If Blossom had passed along a message I couldn’t tell. The trunk then whipped to me and pinched my butt. “We’ll see you later, big boy.” She turned around, and hips swaying, sashayed toward Moots. Blossom plucked the translator-cap from her head and offered it to Moots, who took the cap and stuck it to the top of her head.

  Moots asked, “Are we ready?”

  “As soon as we find a place to sit,” Carmen replied.

  Blossom’s co-pilot hooted through her trunk. Two panels opened in the floor beside Carmen and me and a pair of stout columns rose. An overhead spotlight bathed us for a short moment. The light went out and the columns melted into beanbag-like Barcaloungers, compete with cup holders.

  A large, open-sided basket pushed up from the floor between us and the Wah-zhim. Moots backed into the basket and stood facing the instrument screen with her back to Carmen and me. She and I screwed our butts into our newly formed seats. Safety belts snaked across our hips and down our shoulders to cinch low on our waists.