Star Cat: Pink Symphony

by Andrew Mackay

  "—Get back," screamed the USARIC van inspector, tumbling over his feet. "It’s gonna blow—"

  KA-BLAAAAM!

  The van exploded, vaporizing dozens of nearby USARIC mercenaries - and Denny himself. Several balls of human fire catapulted in all directions as the van crashed back to the tarmac-laden airstrip.

  Those who didn’t get caught up in the explosion opened fire on Denny’s barbecuing body. Scores of stray bullets tore into the USARIC official by accident.

  The latter’s murder was considered a necessary evil.

  "Denny!" Handax screamed into his forearm, hearing the real-time death of his friend. A cacophony of fire and bullets rattled into Moses and Leif’s earpieces as they held their captives in the compound’s corridor.

  "Sorry for your loss, man." Moses kept his firearm at the first security guard’s head. He could see that murder was on Handax’s mind. Quite the irony, considering their mission.

  Leif kept her ‘hot’ security guard at bay with her gun and tried to offer her leader some sympathy. "Handax, man—"

  "—Listen to me very carefully," Handax jammed the barrel of his gun into the first security guard’s temple. "Do you know who we are?"

  "N-No, and we don’t need to know," the guard knew his captor was incandescent with rage. The mist from his breathing plumed out through the fabric of his balaclava "Please, just let us go."

  "Take us to central control. Get up."

  Moses kept his gun held at the first guard. Leif did the same with the second.

  "You’ll never get away with this," the second guard said to Leif.

  "That’s okay,’ she flirted back at him, “We don’t plan to."

  "You’re crazy."

  "That’s right. One of yours just executed one of ours," Handax barked at the pair, "One false move and you get a bullet in the brain. Understood?"

  The two guards nodded, convinced they were going to die.

  Handax nodded at the end of the corridor, "Let’s go."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Space Opera Beta

  "Let’s go," Jaycee’s patience ran out. He planted his boot on Tor’s lower back and booted him along the corridor.

  "Okay, stop hitting me,” Tor yelped like a pansy. “I’m going."

  Tripp and Wool smirked to themselves as they followed behind the pair. The blatant mistreatment of their prisoner felt largely deserved.

  Jelly snarled at Tor as he reached the communications panel. She hopped onto the swivel chair. The sudden application of her weight made it twirl around a few times.

  "Hissss…" she dug her infinity claws into the fabric, enacting what she’d like to do with Tor if she ever laid paws on him.

  He stared into her bright orange eyes and swallowed hard. Something was very definitely off between them.

  "What are you looking at?" Jaycee thumped Tor on the shoulder a little harder than necessary. "Get working, you miserable bag of puke."

  "Oh," Tor double-took and felt the metal Decapidisc around his neck. He cleared his throat and looked at the comms panel. "Yes. Manuel override set up—”

  “Manuel override?” Tripp asked in confusion.

  “Sorry, I mean manual override,” Tor felt the rim of the Decapidisc around his neck. “Set up. A-W-A-K-E-4-5-7."

  A distinct air of unease fell around the team as the panel booted up. An array of lights sprang to life and flashed. Tor turned to Jaycee and tried for a smile. The comms deck had responded to the command and progress had been made.

  “About damn time,” Jaycee said, refusing to share a congratulatory moment with the bad guy. Fighting off the desire to activate the man’s Decapidisc proved to be difficult as Tor stared back at him.

  "Don’t look at me," Jaycee spat. "Get Manuel working."

  "He’s booting up."

  Whump.

  Manuel’s holographic book appeared few feet away from the deck. The image fizzled and acclimatized to the reboot. Manuel’s voice came out as garbled nonsense in an array of pitches and tones.

  "G-Good… after-m-morrrr-ning…"

  "He’s back on," Tripp stepped forward and stared at the flipping pages finally shining to life. "At least he’s not completely destroyed."

  "Manuel?" Tor asked. "Do you read me?"

  "Yes. I r-r-r-read y-you."

  Tor typed a command on the keyboard at speed. "I’m going to run a diagnostic on you. We need to know you’re fully operational."

  "Okay."

  "Just a couple of easy questions. Please don’t take it personally. Are you ready?"

  "Yes, I’m ruh… ruh… r-ready.’

  Jaycee pointed at Manuel with disdain. “Are you sure Max Headroom, here, is in a fit state to answer questions?”

  “Let’s find out,” Tor hit the return key on the panel and took a step back. "Manuel?”

  “Yes, Tor?”

  “What does USARIC stand for?"

  All eyes turned to Manuel as he drifted over to the control panel. "The United States and Russian Intergalactic Confederation."

  "Correct," Tor hit a green button on the control panel. "Second question. What was the primary remit of Space Opera Beta’s mission?"

  "Oh, that’s easy," Manuel said. "To visit Enceladus to decipher Saturn Cry."

  "Almost," Tripp said. “The journey was to Saturn. We didn’t know about Enceladus until we reached orbit.”

  “The answer is good enough for now,” Tor licked his lips and punched in a command on the keyboard. "Last question before flushing to disk."

  "Okay."

  "Where are we?"

  Manuel went silent. His pages rifled together, creating a sound similar to that of a deck of cards being shuffled.

  "Manuel?" Tripp grew impatient. His crew’s lives were at stake. "Where are we?"

  The book slammed shut and shifted over to the communications deck, “Right ascension, declination, position," Manuel arrived at the most honest answer he could muster.

  "Well?"

  "I don’t know,” Manuel said. “I’ve retrieved the geodata in accordance with the Galactic coordinate system. It makes little sense."

  “Much like you, then” Jaycee’s unhelpful retort agitated the others.

  “Shut up, Jaycee,’ Tripp said.

  Tor shifted Jelly’s chair to one side and set the keyboard onto the panel. “Sorry, pet.”

  “Hisss…” Jelly opened her mouth and made sure he could see her sharp fangs.

  Somewhat frightened, he turned away from the disgruntled cat and over to Manuel. “Display the coordinates, please.”

  "I’m not sure how much use they will be. But here they are."

  One by one, the numbers beamed from Manuel’s data page into the middle of the deck.

  00h 00m 00.0000s, −00° 00' 00.0

  Tripp’s face fell, along with Wool’s.

  Jaycee couldn’t believe the result, either. "Just a bunch of zeros?"

  "The format isn’t even correct," Manuel said. "Most of the zeros we see shouldn’t even be showing. It’s scrambled, unintelligible and downright wrong at best."

  Jelly took the opportunity to clean her right paw with her tongue.

  "Nowhere?" Tripp muttered. "No, this can’t be right. We have to be somewhere."

  An idea jumped into Tor’s head as he took in the display. "Manuel, ignore the coordinates for now. We know we went through Enceladus. Do you have any idea where we are?"

  "I am running a scan, now."

  "And the oxygen levels?" Tripp asked. "Botanix took a substantial amount of damage."

  "Opera Beta’s oxygen supply expires a little under seventy hours from now," Manuel said. "But according to the scan, there is no oxygen present on board. No habitable atmosphere."

  "Well that’s wrong, we’re still here," Tripp took a deep breath and exhaled. "Yup, that’s oxygen all right."

  Wool grew anxious and began to tremble. "Oh, God. We’re dead, aren’t we? That’s it, there’s no rescue."

  Tripp took her arms in an a
ttempt to calm her down. "We don’t know the full facts, yet. The readings must be wrong."

  Her hyperventilation didn’t help matters, "Seventy hours of oxygen? We’re going to die, Tripp."

  "Calm down. Just breathe."

  "That’s the whole problem, Tripp. I don’t want to breathe. We have to conserve—"

  "—Well, this is interesting," Manuel interrupted. "I’m not sure how to tell you this."

  "What?" Tor asked.

  "We are not aboard Space Opera Beta."

  Everyone looked around the flight deck. They were definitely aboard the spacecraft. Jelly hopped onto the communications deck and walked across the keyboard, swishing her tail. "Meow."

  "What do you mean we’re not on Beta?" Tripp asked Manuel. "I think you need another reboot, you know."

  "Also, something strange is happening to my clock."

  "You don’t say?" Tripp sighed. "You’ve got the oxygen report wrong, our location all scrambled - and wrong. Are you trying for the hat trick, now, with us not being on our own spacecraft?"

  "Tripp, time is moving very slowly. I am not trying to be humorous. For every hour we have been at these coordinates, Earth has advanced by one calendar month."

  "Okay, that’s enough. We’re switching you off and on again."

  "The equation between Earth time and here is an approximation, of course. Not an exact figure."

  Tor whispered to Tripp. "I think Manuel is several gigabytes short of a terabyte. He’s clearly confused."

  "I can assure you I am not confused," Manuel said with a great deal of sincerity. "My calculations are correct. We are not on Space Opera Beta. Take a look around. Do you recognize anything you see?"

  "Yes! You moron," Tripp screamed with frustration and thumped the control deck "I recognize everything. See, I can touch stuff! We’re definitely on board Beta—"

  "—I think you may be suffering from delusion, Tripp," Manuel interrupted, much to the amazement of the others. "Might I suggest a couple of hours of rest to fully acclimate yourself to your surroundings—"

  "—What are you talking about?"

  Tripp turned to Wool for her reaction. To say she was anything other than bamboozled would be a vast understatement.

  "He’s nuts," she walked over to Jelly and opened her arms. "We’re dead. Plain and simple. Jelly, come to mommy."

  Jelly jumped into her open arms and nestled herself in the crook of her elbow.

  "Meowww-wwwaaar…"

  The entire ship rumbled to life just as she made herself comfortable

  Tripp, Tor, and Jaycee looked around and breathed a suspicious sigh of relief. Finally, an atmosphere that suggested progress, and one that was familiar to them.

  "Beta. She’s back on," Tor looked up and around. "I’m rebooting Manuel. This is a good sign. It looks like we’re in business again."

  "Tor, please do not reboot me. It is unnecessary. I am one hundred percent operational—"

  "—Good call, Tor," Tripp said. "Let’s get the controls up and running and find out where we are, at least."

  "No, don’t do that—"

  "—Rest, Manuel." Tor snapped his fingers, shutting off Manuel’s holographic representation. "Get some rest."

  Jaycee took a few careful steps forward and lifted his K-SPARK toward the door. “Wait. Something’s not right."

  "Not right?"

  He looked around the walls and ceiling. The lights flickered. A distant, angelic humming grew louder from behind the door.

  "You hear that?"

  Jelly snarled, startling the others. She swiped her paw at Wool’s face, catching her off guard. Two of her infinity claws tore across the woman’s cheek, forcing her to release Jelly to the ground.

  "Oww!” Wool yelped, confused by Jelly’s lashing out. “Jelly, what are you—"

  "—Roowaaaarr!" Jelly hit the ground and tumbled onto her side.

  Tripp, Jaycee, and Tor turned to Jelly. Her whiskers fizzed with tiny beads of electricity. She sat up right straight on her hind legs and allowed her whiskers to do whatever they were doing.

  "Muuuuh…"

  "What’s h-happening to her?" Tor gasped. "What’s happening to her face?"

  Boom-boom-boom…

  Three distinct thuds rattled from behind the door. Jelly ignored it as her whiskers perked up, fizzing away. Her face and body vibrated with small, swift shocks.

  Wool felt the bloodied scratch on her face and looked at her fingers. Pink liquid trickled between them.

  "Jelly?" Tripp muttered in astonishment, "What’s happening to you, girl?"

  Jelly’s metal whiskers lit up and stood on end in a fascinatingly unnatural way. Much like her ears did whenever she heard something she hadn’t expected to hear. She lowered her head and stared Tripp in the eyes.

  "Meoowww…" she whined. Only this time in a slightly lower octave than everyone expected. "Muuuuhhh…"

  Boom-boom-boom…

  Everyone turned to the door. It shunted open through the ship’s intense vibrations.

  "What’s going on?" Wool cried for her life.

  The angelic humming barreled down the walls and into the room, along with a fine pink mist.

  "Come to me, sweetie…" A familiar voice accompanied the mist as it pervaded the entire control deck.

  Wool’s jaw dropped. She lowered her hand, exposing the fresh, bloodied scratch on her cheek. "What’s h-happening?"

  Jelly howled at the mist hanging around the walls and floor. Her infinity claws spasmed, almost involuntarily. The metal whiskers on her face fizzed to life, creating a spark in her pupils.

  "Muh… muh… mwaaah… loo… " Jelly croaked and gave up trying to speak.

  "Jelly?" Tripp approached her, only to be met with a fiery resistance. She held up her infinity claws and clenched them tight.

  "N-Nnn…" she coughed up a blob of pink phlegm and spat it to the ground. "No…"

  Tripp could scarcely believe what he was seeing. The same reaction came from Tor, Wool, and Jaycee, who lowered his gun in astonishment.

  "Jelly? No?"

  "She just spoke," Jaycee held his shotgun at Jelly as a precaution. He looked around the deck as the pink gas-like substance filled the room from the corridor. "This is weird. I don’t like it."

  The female voice flooded the room with terrific volume. "Jelly. Come to me, sweetie…"

  Jelly turned to the door, jumped to her paws and scurried towards the corridor. She let out a low-pitched growl as she hopped through the opened door.

  Jelly Anderson was on a quest. What’s more, she seemed to know exactly what was going on.

  Tripp, Tor, Jaycee, and Wool watched her dart out of the room.

  "After her!" Tripp said, chasing after Jelly. "Go, go."

  Jelly bounded along the level one walkway, headed for a particular location. The pink gas hung in the air, wafting away as the others chased after her.

  "Where’s she going?" Jaycee stomped along the ground after her.

  "How the hell should I know?" Tripp kept up the pace and turned to Wool as she ran alongside him, pressing her fingertips against the raw scratch mark on her cheek.

  Jelly skidded on her paws and bolted around the corner. The chorus-like voice seemed louder, now. Wherever they were headed, they were getting close to the source.

  "Jelly, girl," Tripp hollered after her. "Where are you going?"

  She ignored them and kept running.

  "I think we’re going to Medix," Jaycee grabbed Tor’s arm, careful not to knock his Decapidisc. "Come on, keep up."

  "I am, I am," Tor hoped Jaycee wouldn’t knock him out or press the button on his glove.

  "Come to me, sweetie…" the sleepy, female voice shot past their ears as they ran, "You’re such a good girl."

  "That voice. Is that Haloo?" Tripp pointed dead ahead at the opened door to the Medix chamber. "Jelly, what—"

  She bounced into the room and disappeared in a cloud of smog.

  Whvoom!

  "Go, go, go," Tri
pp said as he reached the Medix facility.

  Wool screamed after Tripp. "Are you sure it’s safe?"

  "No."

  Tripp launched himself into the room and into the pink cloud. Wool, Jaycee, and Tor followed him in…

  Tripp walked through the pink gas and emerged inside Medix. Much to his surprise, the room was exactly how they’d left it.

  Several beds, machines, and the unmistakable bright white walls, ceiling and floor. Nothing untoward as far as the room was concerned.

  Jaycee, Tor, and Wool kept a keen eye on Jelly as she nosed around the trolley containing Haloo Ess’s covered body.

  "Mwaaaar…" Jelly snaked around the metal legs, pawing at the casters. "H-Haaa… loooo… "

  Jaycee scanned his surroundings, ready to blast whatever presented itself to smithereens. "What’s going on?"

  "I don’t know," Tripp nodded at Jelly as she made a fuss over Haloo’s bed. "Jelly, what are you doing?"

  "Meow."

  She seemed calmer, now, backing away from the bed.

  The sight of the sheet shuffling around over Haloo’s body suggested she wasn’t dead.

  "My God, stay back," Tripp held out his arms and waved everyone away. "Haloo?"

  "What’s happening to her?" Wool asked, terrified.

  "I don’t know—"

  Haloo’s body sat upright on the bed. The sheet dropped from her chest and landed on her lap. Her eyes were closed, her face still sunken.

  Tripp took one step closer to the bed, careful not to antagonize the woman. "Haloo?"

  Her eyes opened the moment he called her name. She turned to him with a robotic movement and focused on his face. Her pupils were bright pink.

  "Are you okay?" Tripp asked, cautiously.

  "Tripp," she whispered.

  "Haloo. It’s me, Tripp. Are you okay?"

  She burst out laughing and held her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I’m sorry, Tripp."

  "Huh?"

  "I’m feeling great," she clocked Tor, Jaycee, and Wool. Aghast, they didn’t how to respond to the fact that their colleague was alive.

  Tripp pointed out the obvious, "We thought you were dead?"

  Jaycee lifted his gun and pointed it at her. "This is insane. She died right in my arms. Don’t go near her."