“I am, and it’s telling me you oughta know Ertryd tech is the best in the galaxy. They built the Galactic Fleet. Don’t you think they would have kept something back, a secret weapon, just in case?”
“It didn’t happen,” said Ti.
“I could’ve,” said Pheno.
“It didn’t.”
“How do you know?” asked Pheno.
“Because I’ve got my sources.” Ti flushed blue, so Pheno stopped pressing her. He wasn’t sure what that color meant, but guessed that finding out might hurt. “Anything else?” asked Ti.
“Nope.” And I don’t care why you’re so bent or blue or whatever. I really don’t.
Ti returned to the information about Ertryd, Trelia, and Noolak. Eddientis rolled up and joined her. They studied the data for a long time. Pheno should have helped, but he mostly glared at Ti. She dismissed him like a servile; so he should act like one, giving only what was asked.
“The only connection between these three species is—”
The whistle of Ti’s announcer interrupted. She looked over at her door and frowned. The notes signaled an administrator visit, an odd occurrence for any student, doubly so at this time. The second sounding of the announcer set them in motion. “In here, Pheno!” Ti yanked open her closet doors and pushed him in. He fit rather well because all of Ti’s clothes lay scattered over her room. For Pheno, this was one of the enduring mysteries of Ti—how she produced a look of purity and innocence when finding a complete set of clothes, much less a coordinated chaste and naïve look, appeared impossible from the clothes jumble. The mystery enshrouded one of the most intriguing aspects of Ti: the ruthless projection of an image completely devoid of her true nature. Pheno knew; she had shown herself to him, figuratively anyway, and this made him happy—he had become a confidant, an insider. Of course, thought Pheno, her enemies also knew the true Ti. His happiness deflated with the tick of names who had crossed Ti since they met.
The announcer rang again. Pheno heard heated whispers between Ti and Eddientis; things spilled to the floor, or had Ti kicked them aside? “Coming,” called Ti. More shuffling. “Hide my holoslate,” she hissed.
The announcer chimed.
“I said I’ll—”
Pheno heard Ti’s door open.
“Oh, how rude. You have no right to force my door open.” Ti sounded genuinely angry.
The First Thinker’s voice rose irritably, “Control yourself soldier; there is no call for forced entry.”
“We will secure all Ertryds and Trelians,” said an unconcerned voice that Pheno guessed to be the soldier’s.
“Protocols must be observed, sir. I will not permit you to harm my students,” said First Thinker.
“You two come with us,” ordered the soldier.
“Where?” asked Ti.
“No questions,” said the soldier growing angry.
“To a refugee camp,” said First Thinker. “Our witless Prefects believe you represent a terrorist threat.”
Ti stammered some incredulous objections; Pheno guessed she was turning blue, and he understood. Though Gressa had historically avoided refugee containment camps, galactic history contained numerous warnings about refugees imprisoned in containment camps for the remainder of their lives, which were often shortened due to keepers embezzling food money. That fate assumed refugees arrived at the camps. Governments typically kept incarceration quiet to control civil unrest. Guards often abducted refugees for sale to tourist attractions at zoos or, depending on the species’ uniqueness, sold into servility for gladiator games, pleasure pits, or something worse. Both Eddientis and Ti were unique. The thought of either forced into a life like his own sickened Pheno.
From the sounds of their ever more strident protests, Eddientis and Ti recognized the danger.
“Too much talk, seize them,” commanded the soldier.
Pheno didn’t think much more about his friends’ plight, but he did smile as he kicked open the closet door. Regardless of what happened to Pheno, Klug would be held responsible for his servile’s actions.
Three soldiers advanced on Eddientis and Ti. They had not drawn their weapons. Pheno smirked. Oh, how they misjudge her.
“Harden, Eddientis!” yelled Pheno.
First Thinker and the soldiers gaped as Pheno vaulted Eddientis’s now rigid containment field. They drew their weapons as Pheno’s foot struck the first soldier’s throat. A brittle cracking in the man’s neck diverted Pheno to the second soldier. He jammed the impulser into the soldier’s hip as it cleared the holster, struck his chin with an elbow, and swept his legs. The soldier flipped and hit the ground hard. Pheno followed with a cranial strike that sent the soldier into convulsions.
An impulser fired.
Pheno turned slowly—or at least that’s what he felt— needing but not wanting to see.
Ti stood over the body of the third soldier and aimed the gun at First Thinker.
“Don’t shoot; I’m unarmed!” said First Thinker.
Ti, nostrils flared and chest heaving, kept the weapon trained on the Thinker.
“Lower your weapon, Ti. He isn’t a threat,” said Pheno.
Keeping the gun raised, Ti said, “He’ll alert others. We need a head start.”
First Thinker shook his head vigorously; he looked about to cry. “I won’t; spare me and I’ll tell no one. Please, I give you my word.”
Ti tightened her jaw.
“There are other ways, Ti,” said Pheno.
“Like what?” asked Ti.
“I don’t know,” said Pheno.
“You got ideas, Eddientis?” asked Ti.
“I am tasting nothing,” said Eddientis.
“Please, Ti, we’ll figure something out.” Pheno softly placed his hand on her arm and gently lowered it. To his surprise, she yielded without resistance.
“Yu—yu—you killed them,” said First Thinker.
Pheno took in the disfigured and punctured bodies on the floor. He had killed. Without hesitation or reservation, he had ended not one but two lives. Pheno staggered backwards, tripped over a sit cube, and fell into the clutter. A bug-like creature fled over a soldier’s boot. He stared at that boot cocked lazily to the side as if its wearer napped through a hot zenith. Who am I?
Ti struck the First Thinker with the butt of the impulser, knocking him out. “I’m such a badass.”
Pheno blinked at Ti.
“Come on, Eddientis. Help me drag Big Brain here into the closet. Lab Boy’s gone all weepy on us.”
“I’m not crying!” Pheno sniffled and wiped his cheeks with his sleeve so hard it hurt.
By the time they finished blocking the First Thinker in the closet with Ti’s desk, Pheno had composed himself and stood. “We have to get out of here.”
They ran through the city, hiding only once to avoid a battalion of troops racing toward the Academy. Pheno understood the roused troops as a signal that either the First Thinker had escaped Ti’s closet or the dead soldiers’ silence had alerted someone. He had thought nothing could freak him out more than the lazy tilt of that soldier’s boot. The end justifies the means, right? Get one quantum of good more. We killed three soldiers to save three people. Seems balanced, except the lives saved were not only innocent but also our own. Soldiers must follow orders, but without thinking or judgment? How bad would life have become for Ti and Eddientis? If I had stayed hidden, only two people faced danger—an unjust trade for three dead soldiers unless you’re one of the two. Who decides?
In a moment that lasted no more than a handful of seconds, Pheno had created his end. Ti may convince an adjudicator that her actions constituted a justified killing—a rationale easier to accept when the freed killer enters a containment camp after trial. Serviles, however, never qualified for the justified killing excuse. If . . . when they caught him—for escaping a planet without a spaceship struck Pheno as impossible—the soldiers would summarily execute him. No servile stood trial, only their masters. Klug would have to explain and t
ake responsibility for Pheno’s acts while Pheno’s body burned in the waste-to-energy plant. Ti and Eddientis’s fate, the dead soldiers, and his execution had raced through his heart since they left the dorm. Now, the sound of his demise approaching with the rhythmic tromp of hundreds of soldiers’ boots terrified Pheno—deprivation chamber afraid.
Then an odd thing happened; his terror crested from panic into calm. The futility of his escape transformed fear into resignation that calmed, and that calm enabled Pheno to act. He would die; over that fate he had no control, but how he died—that remained in his control. Pheno imagined those sentenced to death felt the same way walking to the centrifuge. A final escape attempt, a detached approach trivializing the act, or a spectacle of begging before the centrifuge separated the victim into its components, Pheno faced all of these options and more. He considered hiding in the tunnels, but cowering until cornered struck Pheno as much a waste as trying to kill more soldiers before falling. No, he would see how this silly, ill-considered plan of theirs played out. Maybe he could do something useful before . . .
The space port’s public terminal was empty except for cargo drones, which were useless for escape because they contained no life support. A single ship docked at the private terminal for the yachts and long range cruisers of the elite. This vessel seemed too plain for people who could afford private space travel. The markings suggested a government ship, though not Gressan because the symbols bore no resemblance to any language he had seen. Its single most interesting feature, however, was its open hatch.
The three fugitives climbed in. The euphoria generated by finding a space ship with an open door evaporated upon inspection of the cabin. The small space offered no hiding places and the pilot, co-pilot, and passenger seats were spherical.
Ti scoffed, “Perfect.”
Pheno tried to sit in one of the spherical restraints. After much grunting and shifting, he squeezed his whole body in but ended up stuck in an embarrassing fetal position until Eddientis pivoted the sphere and birthed him onto the floor face first. “Who sits in something like that?”
Ti shrugged.
“Lifeforms without skeletons,” said Eddientis and slipped into the transparent sphere effortlessly.
“Well, that’s a no go for us.” Ti motioned between Pheno and herself.
Pheno pointed to fabric mesh on the rear bulkhead. “What about that cargo netting in the back?”
“Sure, why not? Let’s bind ourselves to the ship while Eddientis shloops into one of those balls and hope a pilot shows up but fails to notice us before we get off world.”
“Wait, you don’t know how to fly a spaceship?” asked Pheno.
“No, I mean, I’m sure I could with proper training but no; can you, Mr. I’m-Better-Than-Everyone Sigma Player?” asked Ti.
So this is how she’ll punish me—bleed me out with scratches. Pheno sighed and shook his head, which seemed to please Ti which in turn annoyed Pheno. “Then why did you run for the space port?” asked Pheno.
“Duh, to hitch a ride,” said Ti.
Eddientis raised a tentacle, which is to say the Ertryd placed a suction disc on its containment sphere. “I am being flying this transport.”
“For real?” asked Pheno.
“No, not tasting real,” said Ti. “Flying space simulator game being a popular pool on Ertryd. My pod fast racing in local eddies.”
“So . . . you’re saying you played a space racing game that taught you how to fly this ship, but you’ve never actually flown anything in real life,” said Ti.
“You taste truth,” said Eddientis.
“Uh, huh.” Ti crossed her arms.
“Controls being almost same,” said Eddientis. For a creature that never blinked, Pheno thought Eddientis might be trying to look helpful or hopeful, but the dearth of Ertryd facial expressions matched with the deadpan translator voice undermined all efforts to inspire confidence.
“Works for me,” said Pheno.
“Define ‘almost,’” said Ti.
“How do we launch?” asked Pheno.
“We need a pilot,” said Ti.
“I am pressing green button,” said Eddientis.
Ti scoffed. “A REAL ship won’t just have a press-go button.”
“Like that big green one there?” Pheno pointed at the holographic control panel projected on Eddientis’s sphere.
Ti’s eyes widened. “Wait, you can’t expect—”
“Yes,” said Eddientis.
Ti shook her head violently. “No.”
“Ti, this is the only ship with life support in dock. You saw the soldiers; they know what we’ve done. They’ll come here first to block our escape. We killed, Ti. Do you get that? If they catch us—we have no other options. Take the pilot’s station, Eddientis; I’ll bind Ti then myself.”
Ti made an indignant bleat but allowed Pheno to push her into the cargo mesh. He smiled strapping her to the bulkhead. A restrained Ti is a safe Ti.
“Don’t get used to this,” said Ti, “and for the record, this is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”
“I am hearing voices,” said Eddientis.
Pheno froze, except for his heart, which beat at an ear-pounding speed. He heard voices too.
“Untie me, Pheno,” hissed Ti.
“No,” whispered Pheno. “We must launch; I’ll handle them.”
“Pheno!” Ti whispered forcefully, but he had moved out of view beside the open hatch.
The voices stopped outside the hatch. “You have no luggage, Ambassador?” said a male voice.
“No, the ship contains everything I need.” The Ambassador’s voice sounded as flat and mechanical as Eddientis’s translator.
“Will your pilot join us shortly?” asked the man.
“I’m flying alone; I find solo travel . . . so much more, mmm, private; don’t you agree? Besides, the autopilot handles everything,” said the Ambassador.
“As you wish,” said the man.
“Remind your Prefect that I expect a response in three rotations.”
“Safe travels, Ambassador.”
“Of course,” said the Ambassador.
Pheno heard the man walk away and an odd slurping noise on the hatch’s ramp then Pheno’s eyes widened as a creature he had only seen in a xenobiology lecture oozed into view. The stubby, leach-like animal slid slowly toward the pilot’s station unaware of Pheno pressed against the ship’s hull behind it. Pheno waited until the footfalls of the Ambassador’s escort faded before closing the hatch. The Ambassador curled around sharply when the hatch clanged shut. “Who are you? What is the meaning of this intrusion? I am Ambassador Amonin. You trespass on an official vessel of the Amo Union. Leave now.” The creature moved toward Pheno at an astonishingly fast pace for a lifeform without legs.
Pheno scanned the interior quickly; his ambush plan hadn’t factored a fight against a being he couldn’t touch. He needed a weapon—fast. Nothing. I sure hope we don’t need this. He reached up and ripped a pipe off the ceiling. A fine mist billowed from the break.
“You damaged government property, mouth-breather! By the Pools of Cleos, you will rue the—”
Pheno flipped the creature upside down and pressed the pipe onto its soft body. Ambassador Amonin curled around the pipe’s end, making distressed gurgles.
“Bash it against the floor grate, Pheno!” said Ti.
Eddientis swiveled in the pilot’s sphere. “What is it?”
Pheno raised the pipe with the Ambassador entwined and still gurgling pathetically. With the hatch closed and its body close, the creature’s smell assaulted him with a slimy musk of . . . well, everything all at once—an overwhelming mix of hundreds, or probably thousands, of odors in equal measure. The effort to separate the scents hurt Pheno’s head. He walked to the passenger sphere behind the pilot’s and gently scraped Ambassador Amonin into it.
The Ambassador slid to the bottom and slowly righted itself but remained curled. “Why? Why have you attacked me?”
&nb
sp; “It looks disgusting,” said Ti, “and it reeks! Why didn’t you kill it, Pheno?”
Pheno used the pole to close the sphere’s cover then jammed the end through the sphere’s hinge to lock the lid. “As long as we prevent contact, it can’t harm us.”
“It can alert the port or security; I say that would chafe badly,” said Ti.
“Can you jam the Ambassador’s communications?” asked Pheno.
“Sure,” said Ti, “if you’ll untie my arms.”
Pheno freed Ti’s arms. She drew a complex pattern with her fingers across the screen wrapped around her forearm then Ti raised the device to her lips but hesitated. A stricken look fell upon her and she waxed red. “Um . . . I have dual authentication, so . . .”
Pheno shrugged. He had no idea what that meant.
“Go over there by Eddientis and cover your ears.” Ti had turned crimson.
“Why?” asked Pheno. “Even if I wanted to access your device, which I don’t, I have no idea how to use it.”
“Just go over there, Sigma Boy, and don’t listen!” Ti’s red tinged a little purple.
Pheno sighed and walked the six steps to stand next to Eddientis.
“Well? Cover your ears.”
Pheno faced Eddientis so Ti couldn’t see his eye roll and covered his ears.
Ti whispered into her device.
A synthetic and oddly familiar male voice responded, “Unable to authenticate verbal password. Please speak louder.”
Ti cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered again—this time a little louder.
“Unable to authenticate verbal password. Please speak louder.”
“Emuraldize.”
Pheno heard Ti’s now forced “whisper” despite covering his ears.
“Unable to authenticate verbal password. Please speak louder.”
“Oh, for the love of—Emerald Eyes, you short circuit!” yelled Ti.
“Password accepted,” said the device.
Eddientis turned in his sphere, bubbling furiously, and framed Pheno’s face in the sphere wall with tentacles. “Ti’s pass phrase being easy remembering as your eye color.”
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