by Kasch, Andy
Derek said nothing, but went over to the food. Brandon suspected him of having a slight hangover. He followed him, figuring they may as well get fed before their captors arrive. It could be another long day of staring at them from across the room. They stood before the cart and ate in silence. Derek then took the coffee pitcher back to the table and chairs. Brandon followed. They positioned themselves on the far side of the table, where they had been yesterday—only today, Derek kept his chair away from Brandon’s as well.
Then they came in. There were three of them today, but one of them was markedly different. Brandon recognized the appearance of the newcomer. That was an Erob half-breed, the race they referred to as Sheen in the film he watched before going to bed. The Sheen sat between the two natives who were here yesterday. He wore a hooded cloak so only his face, hands, and lower legs were visible, which glowed with an acute brightness. The two natives began tapping on their devices again, but the Sheen just sat there with his hands folded on the table.
Brandon was relieved when he saw they were assuming non-threatening positions. The situation was the same as yesterday, with the captors keeping their distance. Teachers—right. Zookeepers, maybe. If they were zookeepers and he was the caged animal, then Brandon was staying right over here on this side of the cage. He felt a little safer than yesterday, knowing they had yet to show any aggression.
Suddenly, Derek stood up. Without saying a thing, he began taking big strides directly towards them, cup of coffee still in hand. Brandon had a moment of panic. What the hell was he doing? Brandon stayed put. He was scared now—and worse, alone.
Derek walked right up to the table and stood before it. The two natives set down their devices and looked up at him. All three captors remained seated. Derek just stood there for a moment, and then set his cup on the table. The three looked down at his cup, and then back up at Derek, who just kept standing there for another extremely long minute. Finally, he spoke. His voice was loud and desperate-sounding.
“What is this, man? What’s really going on? Why am I here and who are you guys? Are you really space aliens? Or are you the damned oppressive government playing some kind of evil trick?”
The Sheen slowly stood up, greatly alarming Brandon, although the two natives stayed in their seats. To Brandon’s surprise, Derek inched forward—not backward—and placed his hands on the table.
“And why are you glowing, man? You’re hurting my freaking eyes!”
“You display admirable courage,” the Sheen said. He stretched out a hand and turned it palm-up over the table. His luminescent fingers were quite long, making up more than 2/3 of the length of his entire hand.
“We are here to answer your questions,” the Sheen said, “all that you wish to know. Please believe me, you are in no danger. Sit down, if you wish. We can discuss whatever you like.”
Brandon knew there was no way Derek was going to sit at that table. He would probably come back over to Brandon and await the answers to his questions; questions Brandon was now glad he asked.
Derek, however, sat down with them. The Sheen sat back down as well. This wasn’t right. Brandon was now the scared little mouse in the back of the room, and about to be left out of whatever conversation was going to take place. The ostracizing that Derek felt towards Brandon last night must have pushed Derek over the edge.
“I glow because I am of a different race than my associates here,” the Sheen said. “A minority race. My skin is bright to their eyes as well, which is why we keep it mostly covered when we are among them. Your eyes should adjust after a short period. Did you happen to watch a Torian history video which explained about my race?”
Derek shook his head. “No, I must have missed that one.”
“I saw it,” Brandon said from across the room. He got up, walked halfway over, stopped, and stood in place.
“Would you like to join us?” the Sheen said, extending his arm out towards the open chair next to Derek.
“I’m good from here,” Brandon said. “The last time I got too close to some of your friends there, I was assaulted and abducted.”
“Very well,” the Sheen said. “My name is Arkan9. My associates here are Mip7,” the bronze-colored one nodded, “and Professor Yob3. You are currently residing in a special set of rooms, arranged specifically for you, in a large research facility on Amulen, one of our two planets. We are approximately 6,000 light years from Earth.”
“How do you know English,” Derek said, “and when you talk, man, your mouth goes all freaky like and doesn’t look like you are speaking to me.”
Brandon noticed that as well, and remembered the same thing happening yesterday when the one the Sheen had just referred to as Mip7 gave his speech. It was like watching an old Kung Fu movie.
“We speak in our native tongue,” Arkan9 said, “but you hear us in your own language because there have been translation devices surgically implanted along your auditory nerves.”
That caused Derek to jump back up out of his seat. Both Derek and Brandon reacted by putting their hands on the wounds behind their ears, which were beginning to scab and heal now.
“What else have you freaks done to me?” Derek yelled. Brandon noticed he didn’t say us.
“Nothing else, other than what was necessary in order to revive you. Certainly no other surgery. The transmitter implants are a minimally invasive procedure. They are not harmful, and are necessary in order to integrate you into our society.”
Derek turned around and looked at Brandon, then turned back to Arkan9, who remained seated with the natives, and then started walking back to Brandon. Good boy.
He walked right past Brandon without stopping, however, and continued all the way back to the video area. Brandon readily followed him, happy to retreat to their former comfortable, defensive position across the room.
“Would you mind bringing me a cup, also?” Arkan9 said in a loud voice.
Without breaking stride, Derek grabbed the coffee pot from the small table, turned around, and passed back by Brandon. Brandon stopped where he was, momentarily perplexed.
Then, as if Arkan9’s last words suddenly registered, Derek stopped, turned, went over to the food cart, grabbed another cup, and then returned to Arkan9’s table, whereupon he poured both Arkan9 and himself a cup of coffee. Brandon was once again dismayed. This couldn’t be happening. Derek was sitting down and having coffee with their alien abductors. Brandon approached the table, several feet closer this time, and stood. This man was actually much bolder—and quite a bit smarter—than the real Derek back home.
“Thank you,” Arkan9 said.
“So, why am I here?” Derek asked.
“The professor will explain.”
The one he called Yob3 then launched into a detailed history of the Torian space exploration program. Earth was a planet just outside of Erobian space, and was as far away as any of their missions had ever ventured. It was considered an underdeveloped planet, by their standards, but was fascinating from a cultural perspective so continuing missions were commissioned. When it was discovered Earth would soon experience a violent orbital shift, “research subjects” were taken and brought back to the Amulen Science Complex for study. The deep space exploration missions to that section of the galaxy were discontinued approximately 24.4 Torian years ago, before Earth’s pending orbital shift occurred. Being so far away, the actual fate of Earth is still unknown at the present time. During the time since, until now, the Earth research subjects were kept in cryonic preservation chambers, a process which almost freezes the body but maintains life support. The aging of the body is slowed almost to a stop when kept in that type of environment.
Derek pointed his thumb back at Brandon, without turning around. “This guy says he’s from my future.”
“That is correct,” Yob3 said. “He was the last subject taken. You were the first. A time period of approximately 45 Earth years separates you, although the cryonic preservation process has resulted in your current condition being ve
ry close to that of the time when each of you were …rescued. We revived the first and the last subjects in order to ascertain if the maintenance process had developed any obvious flaws over the years. The fact that you both have resuscitated completely, and to good health, validates some of our theories.”
“Well, so glad we could help,” Brandon said. He hoped Derek would return to him now.
“How many more are there?” Derek asked. Brandon had to admit, Derek was handling himself much better than he was.
“We accumulated research subjects from several other underdeveloped planets as well,” Yob3 began.
“No—from Earth. How many more prisoners did you kidnap from Earth?”
Professor Yob3 looked at Arkan9 instead of answering. So did everyone else in the room. Finally, Arkan9 spoke.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
Brandon found his question avoidance unnerving, but he spoke up anyway.
“You mean, outside?”
Arkan9 looked back at Yob3, who simply shrugged, before continuing.
“Yes, we can go outside. Why don’t we all go for walk?”
Chapter Five
Derek walked alongside Arkan9 immediately in front of Brandon. Professor Yob3 led the procession, and the one called Mip7 brought up the rear behind Brandon, forming a secure formation. The doors were all closed in the corridor they now walked through. It was the same metallic color as the gray room. Brandon thought about making a break for it as soon as they got outside, whenever and wherever that would be—but where could he go? The food and beds were back in here. Even so, if it looked like Earth when they got outside, he decided he would look for an escape opportunity and take his chances.
He knew these shoes might be a problem, though. Brandon figured he may need to ditch them, as they could contain a tracking device, or even have a remote control that could stop him from running. Arkan9 had made him and Derek get fitted with them before the walk, calling them gravity footwear, claiming he and Derek would not have good control of their movements outside without them. The shoes were black and had a strip of small green lights on the outside that occasionally flashed in sequence, which Yob3 explained was evidence they were “calibrating.” They looked futuristic and were kind of cool—although, if Brandon saw NBA players wearing them with a Nike symbol back home, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
They turned left and exited through a sliding door into sudden bright sunshine. Everyone stood still for a few moments to allow their eyes to adjust. They were outside, yes—but in the courtyard of a building, completely enclosed. There was no place to run to.
Arkan9 led them to some benches. There were several other lizard-men milling about in the courtyard and conversing, some of whom pointed in their direction before going back inside. This appeared to be a break area for the Torians who worked at the lab, assuming Brandon and Derek were really in a lab on a planet called Amulen.
The plant life in the courtyard was undeniably exotic. One tree with rich green leaves had three or four different kinds of fruit on it. Another had three trunks and one large leaf on top where they all came together. There were vines made entirely of blooming flowers growing on trellises. A patch of purple grass lay in front of them, and a squirrel-looking mammal, what Brandon recognized as giant-frog food, scurried up the fruit tree. It was quite a beautiful scene.
Derek was first to speak. He was looking up at the sky.
“Whoa man, a big full moon out in the daytime. That thing’s outta sight.”
Brandon looked up, and then all doubt was removed about still being on Earth. The moon was much different.
“That is Banor,” Arkan9 said. “It is particularly visible in the mornings this time of year from Continent-2 Amulen. Neither of our worlds have a natural satellite like the Earth’s moon.”
They sat outside for a while, without anyone speaking, while Brandon and Derek took it all in. At one point, Brandon got up and wandered around the courtyard to examine the vegetation and the walls of the buildings that surrounded them. The two natives would have stayed close to him, but Arkan9 waved them off. The Sheen was right; Brandon no longer had a desire to run. There would be no point to it. He was lost, so far from home it was unfathomable, and completely at the mercy of these aliens, who, fortunately, seemed to be committed to taking care of him. He came back over to the group after a bit. Derek had moved and was now sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of Arkan9’s bench. Brandon sat on the bench next to Arkan9.
The specter of it all began to wear off.
“Why did you revive us?” Brandon asked.
“It is a cruelty, and a violation of our moral law, to keep intelligent life forms in perpetual comatose,” Arkan9 said.
“What about kidnapping, man?” Derek said. “Your moral law has no issues with that?”
“Understand,” Mip7 interjected, “if you had remained on your home planet, there is a strong chance you would have perished by now, along with your entire species.” The lizard-professor nodded in agreement.
“Perhaps that’s what we preferred,” Brandon said. “At least it would have been proper to ask first.”
“Right on brother,” Derek said. “Me, I could have just lived my life. I had tickets to a hot show, man. I am fine with dying, as long as I got to see Hendrix play live first. Dang it, I would have been an old geezer, if I was still alive even, by the time you bagged Brando there. It ain’t right, man. You guys obviously didn’t know what you were doing, ‘cause the Earth didn’t roll over or nothing in what was supposed to be my lifetime.”
Arkan9 looked at Brandon. “Your name is Brando?”
“No. Brandon.”
Arkan9 turned to Derek. “What can we call you?”
Derek just sat there for a long moment looking annoyed. He eventually answered, “Derek. Call me Derek.” Brandon shook his head in amazement.
“Brandon and Derek,” Arkan9 said, “I cannot defend all the actions my people have taken, especially in our recent history. Torians are a good people, but all beings error in their ways at times. I do not purport that your abductions were justified. I can only offer an apology.”
“You brought us here, so can you take us home?” Brandon asked.
Arkan9 thought for a moment. “The technology does exist, of course. It is physically possible, yes—but, it is not within my ability to arrange just now. Perhaps in the near future—”
“What about the others?” Derek asked. His question again brought an uncomfortable silence upon the group.
“The resuscitation of our research subjects is a new idea,” Yob3 finally said. “You are the first subjects in this experiment. It is something of a political battle at the moment to determine whether or not additional subjects will be revived, and if so, when and how many. Much depends on the results of the current experiment, and how much influence Arkan9 can exhort on the Amulen government.”
“Wait a minute,” Brandon said. “Just hold on there.” He glanced at Derek, who was now looking back at him expectantly.
“Are you saying the other humans you have trapped here in comas might stay that way indefinitely, and it somehow depends on the two of us if they are to be saved? Woken up like us, I mean?”
The professor looked to Arkan9.
“I’m afraid there is truth in that,” Arkan9 confessed. “The future of your race is now very much dependent on both of you.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Derek asked.
“Nothing happens quickly,” Arkan9 said. “Please do not become upset over this. All of us here are supporters of your cause.” Yob3 cocked his head at Arkan9.
Arkan9 continued. “Mip7 and I are appointed to oversee your development. It is important to integrate you into our society. How well we can accomplish that will greatly affect the influence we have in attaining approval for a secondary phase of Earth subject revivals.”
Brandon suddenly felt the weight of responsibility fall on his shoulders. All thoughts of escape or
rebellion were now gone from him. There were other abducted humans who needed his help. How many, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.
Derek looked upset. “Oh, bummer, man. Like, we have to behave or others will suffer. Oppression, man. This is like, blackmail. Total oppression.”
“I want to take you both to Banor with Mip7 and myself,” Arkan9 said. “I have permission from the Amulen Chancellor. As soon as we think you are fit for local space travel, perhaps in a few days, we will make the trip.”
That seemed to perk Derek back up. “Whoa, a ride in a spaceship? Groovy, man.”
“Let’s finish our walk,” Arkan9 said. “Professor, take us through sections four, five, and seven please.”
Yob3 shook his head. “No, we can’t go through those sections. Maybe seven, if you really think it’s a good idea. Not four and five. We have work going on in those wings.”
“Yes, I know about the work, as I was the one who arranged it on my visit with the chancellor yesterday. It will be all right. I want the Earthlings to see it.”
Yob3 cocked his head again, then tapped something on his device, waited, and read something. He looked back at Arkan9, appearing to be very concerned. He then stood up and looked each at the Earthlings for a long moment, before finally answering Arkan9.
“I think this is a bad idea. I want them together, between us.” He turned to Brandon. “Stay in formation and do not enter any rooms. Remember, your behavior affects the fate of your fellow Earthlings.”
Brandon nodded. Everyone stood up.
“This way,” Yob3 said. Arkan9 followed directly behind him. Derek walked with Brandon behind Arkan9, and Mip7 came last. They entered the building by another door and walked down a corridor a ways. Yob3 was met by another lizard-man, a silver-colored one who held odd-looking instruments. They talked for a minute or two, and then the new one went ahead while they all kept standing for a few more minutes. Finally, Yob3 began leading them again.
The wall on the right-hand side became glass, so they could see the inside of a large room. It was well-lit with unrecognizable gadgets placed about and several Torian natives performing various tasks. In the middle of the room were two clear glass coffins with what appeared to be some kind of creatures inside, possibly dead Torians. Yob3 waved to one of the workers, and two of them wheeled one of the coffins over to the glass wall where they could get a closer look.