Astro-Nuts

by Logan Hunder

  “You probably coulda did better if you actually went to SIT,” Kim suggested.

  Donald’s face contorted into a look of such unbridled fury that she threw up her hands before the poor man had an aneurysm.

  “I’m kidding! I’M KIDDING!”

  “Yeah, you better be . . .” He grumbled, gesturing threateningly with his phone.

  After rescuing Willy from the pile of bodies he was hiding under, it was back to the mission. The corridor being filled with griping grunts rolling around on the floor didn’t help with lightening the mood. However, at least the soldiers had their own preoccupations that transformed the act of traipsing around them from a legitimate challenge into an uncomfortable jaunt, like walking through an alley full of homeless people. All the crew could really do was huddle together as they walked, avoiding eye contact and taking great care to avoid brushing against any outstretched legs. Occasionally somebody would twitch and the captain would have a coronary, but it was nothing the reassuring grip of his beloved’s hand was unable to negate. The odd reminder that he was being a very brave boy would not have hurt either.

  Cox mentioned earlier that there were three qualities every successful adventure must have. They could not have failed the one that stipulated nobody should get hurt any harder, and whatever lessons they learned today were probably not the kind he had in mind. So, with the trip nearing its end, they had better make one hell of a positive difference.

  “Tim, we can’t leave yet,” Kim urged, grabbing his arm before he could board the Jefferson. “We still need to destroy this.”

  She removed the bottle of vile liquid from her side pouch. Thankfully, it had all been drained, but the alien goo capable of destroying organic matter that replaced it was almost as bad.

  “We do!” He agreed as he punched the code to the door. It swung wide and he paused to gesture them all inside.

  Kim folded her arms.

  “I’m not following,” she said as she blinked, then added: “Figuratively. But also literally, I guess.”

  “Oh, honey, I knew you’d say that. Well, not that exact quote. But the gist of it. You don’t have to worry though. In the time I’ve spent here, I’ve come to learn that the power was with us all along!”

  “What are you, high!?”

  “No, really! It’s a little lofty, but I’m totally serious.”

  “So am I! You just said you knew what I was going to say and that’s the response you prepared?”

  “Well, I was going to say that I figured out if we go dig up some of the ship’s batteries, at least one is bound to have some acid in it that we could extract!”

  “I . . . Did you come up with that?”

  “Nnnnnyes!”

  “Oh really. What kind of acid is in a battery then?”

  “ . . . Uh. Battery acid.”

  “Uh-huh. Don’t worry, I don’t know what it’s called either. C’mon, Einstein.”

  “Hey, did Mister Nobody already go in?! I just realized I haven’t seen him in a little bit.”

  “I don’t think he followed us out of the room. Maybe Bundy shot him. I don’t really care.”

  With the other three members of their crew already inside the ship, they broke into a light jog in order to catch up. Stepping onto the bridge dosed them with a slight feeling of the comfort that came with home, but it was vastly outweighed by the sight of the kids petrified in place before any had made it to their station. A suspicious swivel chair that wasn’t there before blocked their path. The collective blood of the quintet ran cold as it began to rotate and face them. Menacing as it was, no one was really surprised when the diabolical sneer of Sir Head was revealed.

  21.

  EVERYBODY EXPECTS THE

  BRITISH IMPOSITION

  SO,” THE SNARKY BRIT seethed. “We meet again, Mister Cox.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” The captain asked.

  “What? Why would you . . .” The man’s voice trailed off for a moment before his eyes went wide and he pounded on his arm rest.

  “I’M NOT JAMES BLOODY BOND!”

  As if the yelling didn’t indicate enough agitation, he hopped to his feet and produced a laser pistol from the inside of his suit jacket. This prompted a hip checking match between Kim and Cox to try and put themselves in human shield position—a human shield the rest of them were more than happy to take advantage of. While her husband ultimately won out, Kim accepted the consolation prize of poking the barrel of her own rifle under his arm.

  “If you ever wanna eat another damn crumpet, you better put that gun down.”

  “Oh shut up, you clueless bint,” the old curmudgeon spat. “I’ve had a hundred times as many guns pointed at me by a hundred times as many people who were all better shots than you. Do you really think I’d let a woman be the one who does me in? Even in my old age I am tougher than the whole lot o’ ya. I only got out this pintsy equalizer here ‘cos I’m on a schedule.”

  “Sooooo . . .” Cox said. “You expect us to talk?”

  “No, Mister Cox, I expect you to . . . Oh god DAMN it!”

  On the less than dignified proclamation, his aim went askew just far enough for advantage to be taken. The co-captain’s abysmal trigger discipline allowed for a timely reaction shot. There was no fancy refractive glass to mess up her aim this time, but she still managed to miss all his vital areas anyway. She would later claim she missed on purpose. Maybe she even did. Regardless, it provided just enough opportunity for the collective to scatter like a flock of geese walking over a landmine.

  “What are you two still doing here?” Kim demanded of Donald and Cox. “That was your chance to get away and hide somewhere!”

  “Run and hide?!” Her incredulous significant other repeated. “I can’t leave the two things I value most in this life at the mercy of him!”

  Donald squinted at him for a moment then shook his head.

  “I . . . I didn’t know I was supposed to run. Can you shoot him again? I totally will this time.”

  “Tim, I have never once doubted your bravery or good intentions.” She took a quick peek around the corner they hid behind. “Now is not the time for them, though. I already beat up one old geezer on this ship, and this one now has a laser wound in his shoulder. You need to take this down to wherever you planned on going and do whatever you planned on doing to it!”

  She tried to force the bottle of Fireball into his hands. When he wouldn’t take it, it was instead thrust into the almost equally unwilling paws of their communications officer. He looked down onto it with disgust.

  “I thought you said I was allowed to run? You’re making me a part of this now!”

  He gestured with his free open hand to give his plea a little more weight. However, all he got in return was the Glock shoved into it.

  “There, take that then. Better?”

  “Uh, yeah a bit, actually.”

  “Baby how can you ask me to leave you with this guy?!” Cox sputtered. “I mean, he’s being gracious enough to let us have this conversation, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna be nice once he does decide to get up and come after you!”

  “He’s not being gracious, hon. He’s rummaging through our cupboards looking for a burn heal.”

  “That makes it even wor—”

  “TIM!”

  “WHAT!?”

  “We don’t have time. Do this! Please! If there is one time in this entire fiasco that we just do things my way . . . can this be it?”

  He pursed his lips together and scrunched his face into the closest it could get towards a scowl.

  “ . . . Fine!” He relented after a giant inhale. “But if you die, then I am going to turn into a hollow shell of a man, and I won’t be held responsible for the unspeakable things I do in my grief!”

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “Heh, I thought you’d find that cute. But seriously, I love you. Don’t die.”

  “I’m not gonna die! And I love you too. Now go save the world
, while I add elder abuse to the list of crimes we’ve committed today.”

  She cocked the bolt-action on switch and leapt back into the fray. Even after she had gone, Cox took a moment to take in the sounds of her shouting expletive laden taunts at her opponent in a butchered British accent. The words “Oi, guvna!” had never sounded so cute. Shame it was followed by a detailed description of growing male genitalia and then beating him with it since he was so averse to being bested by a female. Gone were the good old days of fond ribbing between opponents. Sure, they were both locked in a desperate attempt to survive, but just once, he wanted to see a polite fight.

  Cox and Donald hurried through the halls of their house. Stressful as the situation was, the feelings of urgency were further exacerbated by the fact that neither one of them had gotten to pee since before arriving at Pia’s lab. Of course, if they had to deal with too many more unpleasant surprises, then that issue was likely to resolve itself.

  “Hey, Donny, in your little ship schematic program you got on your computer, does it tell you where we keep the batteries?”

  “No. Why would it? And why would all the batteries be in one room? And what do you need batteries for, anyway?! Oh, god, don’t tell me you have a plan.”

  “I do have a plan! If it makes you feel better, though, I didn’t come up with it.”

  “It does. But I still dunno where any batteries are.”

  “Well that’s okay, buddy! I’m sure we can find one around here somewh—”

  “There you are, you gagging sod!”

  Interestingly, the amount of time it takes to pull a trigger is nearly identical to the average human reaction time—approximately two tenths of a second. Had Agent Todgerworth considered this information, he likely wouldn’t have chosen to blow his surprise with a flimsy taunt that would be neither clearly heard nor understood fully by those at whom it was levied. Since he opted to wait until after the utterance, though, which consumed nearly three whole seconds—a virtual eternity in dramatic slo-mo time—his itchy trigger finger had nary begun to clench by the time Cox and communicator dove behind the corner they had just rounded. As a result, his revenge lasering came to a harmless end as a scorch mark on the wall and Percy was made to look quite the fool.

  “Well, shite, I did not think that one through.”

  Donald gaped at Cox from the other side of the hallway entrance.

  “I thought you burned that guy’s face off?!”

  “I did!” He glanced around the corner then nodded. “Wow! Modern medicine sure is something! Looks like it couldn’t save his moustache or eyebrows, though.”

  “Oh Captain, my Captain,” Percy’s voice oozed from down the hall. “We never did get to finish our chat earlier.”

  “He’s walking this way, Donny!”

  Donald raised an eyebrow. Tucking away the bottle of fireball, he produced the Glock and cocked it the same way that he had seen it done before.

  “Then, boy, is he in for a surprise.”

  It was the kind of surprise that made people understand why some people did not like surprises. Just as it did the first time, the bang blew through the contained metal hallway like a sonic boom. Cox had the foresight to plug his ears this time, but Percy, having had his element of surprise used against him, nearly toppled over from the shock of the blast and muzzle flash. “Bloody Hell!” was all he could manage during a mad scramble into the nearest alcove.

  From a purely logistical standpoint, the two warring parties were deadlocked in a standoff. From a psychological standpoint, the blaster that produced pitiful pews appeared substantially inferior to the tiny sidepiece that trumpeted world-shaking bangs every time it emitted one of its invisi-ble-to-the-naked-eye projectiles. The twang they made upon meeting with their ultimate destination only served to amplify their unnerving nature.

  Bang.

  Percy’s entire body curled up like a dead spider when a wily bullet tore a chunk out of the corner he hid behind.

  Bang.

  “Do you really mean to destroy your ship just to thwart me?!” He bellowed from his hiding spot.

  Bang bang.

  “Donny, buddy, you are putting a lot of holes in the wall.”

  Bang.

  “Is that really your biggest worry right now, man?!”

  Bang.

  “I guess you got a point.”

  “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  Bang, bang.

  Any thoughts of peeking his own blaster around the corner to return some hail disappeared when one of the preceding bullets grazed Percy’s hiding spot yet again. When he removed a hand from his eyes, a peculiar faint scraping noise directed his eyes to the floor. At first it appeared to be debris, albeit a larger chunk than the rest. Even when it stopped spinning and he got a better look at its mangled, rusty-yellow exterior, he still couldn’t tell what it was. Any attempts to pick it up and inspect it further were reconsidered after one touch fried his fingertips like a hot coal, not that he would have been able to identify a bullet even if it hadn’t been fired.

  Bang.

  Oh, right, he was still in a firefight.

  Bang.

  “I gotta say, Captain,” Donald said with surprising pleasure. “Most of your old crap sucks, but this thing is pretty great.”

  Bang.

  “Well I wouldn’t call it my favourite part of my collection. But I admit it’s surprisingly effective!”

  Bang.

  “I’ll say. I’m kinda wondering sure why we ditched these things for lasers.”

  Click..

  “The hell?”

  Click, click.

  “What’d you do, Donny? Did you break it?!”

  Click, click, click.

  “I didn’t do anything! It just stopped working.” Click, click. “Piece of junk.”

  Percy renewed his investment in the conflict with a quick peppering of laser shots. He purposefully avoided wasting his surprise on an insult this time. However, that did not stop him from still missing, all the same.

  “Having a bit of difficulties, are we?” He gibed from the alcove. Wary of any other unexpected weapon appearances, he briefly held off further advancement. For the time being, he would merely shoot lines of light and lines of provocation in their general direction, hoping something would tag them.

  “Well that’s it, man!” Donald uttered as he let the pistol fall to the floor with a clunk of resignation. “That’s it! We’re done! This was the only line of defense we had, and now we got nothing!”

  Cox bowed his head. Negativity was far from his nature, but Donald’s seemed beyond quelling. Not that he didn’t have good reason to be. A brief lapse in judgement nearly led to the captain peeking out at Percy right as another malevolent light beam whizzed on through where his face would have been. It was a grave scenario indeed, but there was a snippet of hope to be had.

  “You need to carry on without me, Donny,” he said with a voice both solemn and dignified, as all people making great sacrifices for others were required to do by law. “Whether you know it or not, you’re a part of something bigger now. We all are. Greatness has been thrust upon us, and you bear the final hope humanity has at avoiding being placed under the shadow of tyranny. I wanted it to be the both of us, buddy. But it’s me that he wants. And since it’s me that he wants, we have a chance to still make it. Don’t make the same mistake I did with Kim and waste time trying to stop me. Just go, Donny. I’m beggin’ ya. Don’t worry about me. I got this. I’ll figure something out.”

  Donald blinked at him.

  “K.”

  And without another word, the brave boy scurried away. Probably before his emotions overtook him and drew him toward rash decisions. Always the stoic pragmatist, that Donald. With the lad safely on his way, now was the time for Cox to shine.

  “So uh, still there, Mister Todgerworth?”

  The ensuing harrumph was all the answer he required, but a more articulate one followed nevertheless.

  “I
would hardly think to abandon my charge now, Mister Cox.”

  “Captain Cox.”

  “You are not a captain!!” Todgerworth blindly fired at the location of the man of dubious captaincy. “You are hardly a man! To be a captain requires one be not only capable of handling responsibility, but thriving under the mantle. Not only do you lack the requisite certifications for such a title, but I have yet to happen upon anyone who remotely displays incompetence capable of competing with yours! Let alone one who still demands such a moniker! Every report of your success has come bearing an asterisk denoting intervention in the form of aid from more competent associates of yours or sheer bloody dumb luck. The one time in which you were left completely helpless, alone to your own devices, you were only able to escape by way of an opportune cheap shot. And make no mistake; I will have my revenge for that! Yet even with your flagrant inadequacy dragging behind you everywhere you go, you propose the ability to hold me off?! You. The pitiful quim trembling alone behind that corner. Listening to me . . . silently . . . bollocks; you’ve run away too, haven’t you?”

  COX WASN’T SURE HOW long the captain line would hold him for. For all he knew, Todgerworth had seen right through it from the outset and was already in hot pursuit. But he dared not look back. No one who looked back ever ran faster for it. And many who did ended up crashing into or tripping over things. It was just a bad idea all around, and he was in no position to be having bad ideas. That’s why he made a beeline for the engine room, where there was only one exit and copious amounts of loud noise that would make it impossible to hear anyone coming or track their movement via sound. It was the stupidest choice of place for him to go, so therefore, Percy would never expect a seasoned captain like him to go there.

  Classically, engine rooms were the darkest, dingiest, inexplicably moistest rooms of a space vessel. They would have wires and cables dangling from the ceiling, obscured by an omnipresent haze that did not have any actual reason to be there but was never questioned by anyone. All in all, they were widely regarded as the room on the ship that one would be least surprised to be killed in. The Jefferson, however, was the exception. Large floodlights, a fancy rug, and some state-of-the-art dehumidifiers rendered it as welcoming as the lobby of the Empress Hotel, provided one did not mind the roar of an engine that was described by most as “only mildly deafening.” There were a great many scenarios Cox took into consideration during the ship’s construction. Many had paid off on this adventure, too. However, at no point did he consider a scenario in which he himself would need to be familiar enough with the ship’s components to not only identify them but also dismantle them. With wall-to-wall technological tackle stretched out before him, it was understandable to be overwhelmed by the prospect of it all. The fact that it was acid he needed made it all the worse. The stuff was generally not an ideal substance to search for by braille.