“Affirmative. ETA is two minutes,” the ship responded.
“And if we don’t see each other on Blood Island?” I asked, doubtfully.
“Then we will see each other in the clinic in meatspace,” Eunice smiled encouragingly and kissed me on the lips. “Everything will be fine.”
“Be careful out there,” I gave in, acknowledging the girl’s point. “Brainiac, send five drones with Nurse.”
“I will try. I won’t be long.” Eunice touched my shoulder and ran off with quick steps, as if afraid that I would change my mind. Her vital signs had spiked slightly. I wonder if she knows that I have full access to her armor suit or not?
“I’m out!” my wife reported a minute later and her screen turned gray. I was worried, but Brainiac quickly established visual contact. The ship’s concept of ‘as close as possible’ was thirty meters. With bated breath, I watched Eunice force her way through the dense gas to the cherished goal. A cable tied to her connected her to the droids. However, the tin cans shut down immediately upon stepping out into the ‘soufflé,’ losing all of their energy.
“Cap’n, something’s amiss,” said the engineer. The snake’s head was next to me, watching the only active screen.
I could see that something was wrong myself, but I couldn’t tell exactly what. Eunice and the droids almost reached the destroyer when odd currents of turbulence began to appear to her right and then to her left. It was as if someone or something was moving nearby.
“They are under attack!” Brainiac boomed and at the same moment a black beam painted the droid squad. We saw its source immediately — a frigate-sized creature that looked like a woodlouse. A kind of cosmic arthropod or something, charged with monitoring the ‘soufflé’s’ temperature no doubt.
The black ray triggered a transformation. The droids began to crumple into themselves, as if they had fallen into a field of tremendous pressure. First they turned into one dense piece of metal, but then they continued to shrink and condense: to the size of basketballs, then tennis balls, golf balls and at last nothing at all. The black ray did not stop there, however, and continued to bear down on the now empty point of milky haze. The ‘soufflé’ circling around it began to curl in whirlwinds, rushing to this point. First slowly but then faster and faster with every passing second. The orbship jerked and slowly began stretching towards the destroyer. And the destroyer, in turn, began stretching toward us.
“I detect the formation of an artificial black hole!” Brainiac boomed again, underscoring the gravity of what was happening with emergency lighting. “There is a 100% chance that Nurse and Warlock will be sucked into it!”
On my screen, Eunice latched onto the destroyer’s airlock with a death grip, hanging from it horizontally.
“She’ll be crushed!” the engineer predicted. “And we’ll be next!”
“Brainiac, open fire!” I ordered, making my decision. “Aim at the source of the black ray!”
“Roger, open fire!” The computer reacted instantly. Without the orangutan, it fell to the snake to operate our beam cannons, but she managed just fine. Four ragged lines of red-hot plasma pierced the woodlouse. If the insect was surprised, we didn’t notice. The creature was blown open, staining the white helium with specks of green. The artificial black hole burst immediately after, scattering the crushed droids in different directions.
“Captain, the ship is in need of repairs,” Brainiac assessed the damage. The armor, designed to take a hit from six torpedoes, survived, but my wife’s armor suit didn’t. It drifted near the damaged airlock utterly empty. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.
“Lex, respawn works fine.” The call to my PDA was like music to my ears. I sighed with relief. Eunice had already been reborn on Blood Island. “Did Brainiac figure out what it was?”
“Uh-huh. An artificial black hole. The locals are having fun. Some sort of woodlouse blew up you and the droids with a black beam.
“Don’t forget to grab my suit. No point throwing away twelve billion,” said my wife. “I have more news. The first is that the comms don’t work in the white fog, even among players. I tried to call you, but it didn’t go through. The second bit of news is that that destroyer has living creatures onboard. I knocked and heard a knocking in reply. The third bit is this: Don’t be afraid. If anything happens just blow up the ship.”
“Attention! Collision alert!” Brainiac warned a few seconds before the collision. The artificial black hole had accelerated us and even the subsequent explosion did not slow us down. The hull shook, activating my suit’s inertial dampeners. A nasty screeching sound of metal scraping against metal followed. Several screens on the bridge went out again and after a moment, Brainiac reported:
“Docking procedure successful! Hull damage is 40%. We have 30 minutes of idle power remaining. Access to the airlock granted.”
“I can hear you’re having a party over there,” Eunice said from the other end of the line. “Watch it, Panzer: If you die before you manage to record something interesting, I’ll kill you again! Got it? Now go on and kick some ass! And do consider why the Uldans would send you into that…that hole!”
“I’ve recovered Nurse’s armor suit, Cap’n.” The engineer waved what remained of the once-expensive armor and on that joyful note my wife hung up. I tossed the scrap metal into my inventory: In our current situation, the cargo hold was not to be trusted.
“Prepare the droids. Do we have enough elo to activate the marine?”
“No, Cap’n…” the snake sighed. “He’s not what you would call energy efficient.”
“Understood. Move out!”
After some discussion, we decided that five droids would be enough for our sortie. The engineer depowered the rest, removing their powercells.
The destroyer’s airlock was severely deformed. And not only by the black hole’s explosion and subsequent collision. We were forced to literally cut our way through to the hatch. A jumble of pipes and plating obstructed our way, and it was entirely unclear where it had all appeared from. While we were at it, I managed to repurpose the plating, welding it over the holes to keep the gas out. The ‘soufflé’ really did block all transmissions. As soon as I stepped out into it, Brainiac’s voice went mute — to resume as soon as I stepped back out. The droids did not work out so well, and I was forced to send them back. Two of them touched the strange helium condensate and shut down. All of their power had been drained from them — siphoned off to feed the hungry, wandering woodlice. I was sure that the specimen we encountered was not the only one among the local fauna.
It took me fifteen minutes to break through to the destroyer — exactly half the time we had left according to Brainiac. Reaching the airlock, I knocked with my fist, warning that I was about to open the door. For a couple of seconds there was nothing — and then someone knocked back from within. Eunice was right. Someone was in there.
A fresh droid dragged a cable from the orbship and I hooked Brainiac into the control port. I had to use this chance before Warlock went completely dead. Brainiac began hacking the password, but the inhabitant of the destroyer responded faster. The door jerked, air rushed noisily into the airlock and I thanked my stars that I had patched the holes. For facing me on the other side of the door, sat a giant green toad — without any armor suit or anything. If there were still vacuum here, the poor fellow would have been torn to pieces.
“That’s a Bufondian,” said Brainiac. “An empire of the Voldan Alliance. They are amphibians who can survive without air for a long time.”
I had already encountered a specimen like this back on the Zatrathi orbital station. The Bufondian prince had kept to himself, seemingly not wishing to be noticed. However, I had not had a chance to interact directly with these amphibians and therefore did not know their habits or etiquette.
“I come in peace!” I said in the common tongue and held up a Vulcan salute. “I need powercells or elo.”
The Bufondian reacted oddly. It began to jump like a dog that ha
d met its master, clapping its front paws and opening its mouth. With its last leap, it jumped up on me. My first instinct was to knock the amphibian away with my fist, but I noticed in time that neither Brainiac nor my armor suit had signaled any danger. The Bufondian embraced me like a child embracing a parent who had returned from a long business trip. The toad even tried to lick my faceplate, but I swiped away the indecently long tongue and assured the creature that I was happy staying friends.
When the frog had convinced itself that I was real, it erupted in a long and indistinct croaking. Brainiac provided a very brief translation:
“Ribbit, thanks its savior.”
“Is that all?” I asked doubtfully. “It’s been croaking for so long, you’d think this toad is running for president!”
“Ribbit is very pleased at the appearance of the gallant knight with a brave heart in this not at all friendly system. Ribbit admires the courage of the valorous captain who through untold perils managed…”
“Right. I see. Let’s get to the point then.”
“Ask away, Captain. Time is running out,” reminded my ship computer.
“How many creatures are there aboard this ship?” I commenced the interrogation.
“You speak our tongue?!” The toad pressed even closer to me once as Brainiac provided the translation. “There is no one else here! Everyone has died. I have been here alone for five years now. You have saved me and from now on I belong to you. Do you wish me to spawn tadpoles for you, my liege?”
The discovery of the gender of the frog currently hanging off of me stumped me. Trying to disengage as gingerly as I could, I asked the most important question:
“Is there any elo on board this destroyer?”
“There is plenty of it! The entire hold is full of elo! Only I do not know what to do with it. I was taught to serve the pilot and not to bother with clever words. From now on, I will serve my new master! All my dances will be for you!”
Oh goddamnit! I wish Stan were here to explain to me what the hell is up with these Bufondians. I felt that I was walking on the very edge — open my mouth in the wrong place and that’s it — now I have a frog slave to deal with.
“Eunice, what do you know about the Bufondians?”
“Show me,” my wife demanded and I had to turn on the video. The girl spent a long time instructing me on how to position the camera for a better view, but when the amphibian began to praise my imaginary virtues again and assure us of the good genes of her tadpoles, Eunice lost it. She began to giggle. At first, just a little, then stronger and stronger until she began to snort and clapped her hands over her face.
“Well, now I know a lot more about them than before you called,” Eunice managed through her tears. “If you believe in fairy tales, then I do not envy you. Put some lipstick on her.”
I was uncomfortable. I had hoped for some solid advice.
“Is that all you have? Then go deal with our house. We were supposed to get a response yesterday. I need Stan. Bye.”
While I was talking to Eunice, Ribbit had already gone from threats to deeds. First, she smeared my entire helmet with snot-like drool and smacking contentedly, slid down to my chest.
Overcoming the suction, I tore the toad from myself. In a pathetic attempt at protest, she kicked her legs and stuck out her tongue like some kind of dangerous weapon. I gave her a couple shakes.
“I need the elo! Where is it?”
Ribbit looked at me with her immense moist eyes. I shook her one more time. Not so much because I felt it was necessary, but because I felt like it.
“Where’s the elo?”
“In the second cargo bay, my lord. I will show you.”
Glory to the developers! Having regained her freedom, Ribbit rushed in long leaps deep into the destroyer, eager to please her new master. I ran alongside, ordering the surviving droids to follow me. Ten minutes to the cargo bay, a minute to fill all the powercells and ten minutes back.
I did not make it in time. Brainiac had already gone into hibernation.
Warlock’s reactor had consumed the last bit of elo and stalled. Suppressing my urge to immediately launch the ship, I unloaded the loot and went for the next batch. I need to get enough elo to activate Brainiac and the marine. Hauling the elo should be done by those meant for the job, not by me.
“Captain!” Brainiac greeted me and started the transportation process. In four trips, I was able to get enough elo, not only for the rhino, but also for the snake. The engineer immediately began resuscitating the orbship’s damaged systems. Of course, if we self-destructed, the ship would respawn restored anyway, but letting the crew rest was not in my rules. If there’s work to be done, let them do it.
I left the most important thing for myself — to figure out what happened to the Bufondians. Ribbit refused to leave my side, following everywhere, but she also answered all my questions about the fate of the previous owner in the same way: He had died and could not prevent her from serving me.
When I reached the captain’s bridge, I froze for a while — there was no door. On top of this, like the orbship, the destroyer had been depowered. Brainiac directed me to insert a powercell into a receptacle, powering only the computer, but the powercell was drained almost instantly. The next powercell suffered the same fate. And the next one. After idiotically wasting five powercells, it became clear that something was wrong here.
“Brainiac?”
“Analyzing now,” the ship computer replied. “But first tell me, captain, why do you wish to reactivate the destroyer?”
“Hmm…I suppose I don’t need it at all.”
“In that case, I recommend we extract the data drive and transfer it to the orbship. Decrypting it should take some time anyway.”
Ribbit jumped away and screamed in fright when I began breaking through the control panel. Ripping it up by the root and tearing off braids of wires, I got to the central processor. The engineer snorted with contempt when she saw such antiquity. Calling the destroyer a museum piece, she pointed to the data drive — a small box, wrapped in wires and a soft insulator so that no vibration would harm the ship’s brain.
“What is my master doing?” The toad continued to jump after me, even after my bit of vandalism.
“I’m pillaging. I’m a pirate, you see,” I did my best to dispel any illusions of my heroism in her mind — but I only managed to make things worse. Ribbit hopped onto me again, hugging me.
“Sovereign! You are a great warrior! I shall spawn you an army of children and you will conquer Galactogon! You will become strong and mighty and everyone shall tremble in terror before you!”
The toad tailed me everywhere, even aboard Warlock. Giving the engineer the data drives, I sat down in my captain’s chair, wishing to distract myself for even a minute. I was sick and tired of hearing the same thing.
“Psst. Cap’n,” the engineer silently called to me. “Look here. Brainiac can show you what really happened to that destroyer’s crew.”
A video appeared on one of the internal screens. It turned out the crew had been ordinary Qualians. They had locked themselves in the captain’s cabin — the last ten survivors of the huge ship. They were aiming their blasters at the door. The view changed to a different camera. My friend Ribbit was clawing her way inside, leaving deep grooves in the door. Eventually, the door couldn’t hold any longer. Everything went bright from the blaster fire — but the plasma did not cause Ribbit any harm. The toad pushed through the torn metal and attacked the Qualians, devouring each one in two or three bites.
Just then, I heard someone say in the common tongue:
“Did the master find out about Ribbit’s little weakness? It is a pity…Ribbit will have to wait for another master.”
The toad opened her maw — filled with a terrible darkness — and leaped at me.
You just can’t trust giant toads these days.
Chapter Fifteen
The manipulators appeared in my hands, and I aimed them at the flying toad.
Just in time. At the very last moment. I moved more by reflex than consciously. The suddenly suspended Bufondian replied by shooting out her tongue and coiling it around my throat. It’s a good thing I had an armor suit between me and the slobbering monster. The toad couldn’t crush the suit’s metal.
“Cap’n, I don’t have a shot! She’s too close to you!” fretted the engineer.
“Hold your fire. Ask Brainiac — can a Bufondian survive in open space?” I asked. The spike of adrenaline had passed and I was regaining my composure. It’s only the unknown, the unresolved, that is frightening — when the enemy is in front of you, everything becomes easier. Here it is, the enemy. Now I must destroy it.
“No better than any other sentient creature. She’ll have ten to fifteen seconds and then she’ll suffocate.”
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