Grow Up

by Craig Anderson

  As Josh watched, a sleek grey ship appeared on the viewer and rapidly grew in size, until it filled the entire screen. He said, “Are they with you guys?”

  “No. They are our sworn enemy.”

  A logo was emblazoned on the outside of the ship. Josh didn’t recognize the symbols beneath, but they looked like they formed a word. “What does that say?”

  “It says Galactic Corp. They are attempting to hail us,” said the A.I.

  “Ignore them!” said Gargle, waving the blaster around in a manner suggesting he had no idea how to use it.

  “Establishing connection,” replied the A.I.

  “Why do I even bother?” grumbled Gargle.

  A new voice came over the earpiece. It was deep and very formal. “Blurgon vessel, you have been detected making an unauthorized retrieval of organic material from this unclaimed planet. You must return the material at once, or we will destroy your ship. You have seven minutes to comply.”

  “Can you shoot them down?” Josh said. He was only mildly offended to be referred to as organic material.

  “No,” replied the Ship’s Computer without hesitation.

  Josh hid his disappointment. He’d grown up on movies filled with space battles and laser fights. If he was going to dream about spaceships, the least his subconscious could do was make it exciting.

  Gargle looked equally unimpressed with the situation, presumably for different reasons. He said, “Better do what they say, we won’t get a second chance. If they think we have discovered something dangerous they will blast us out of the sky rather than risk us using it against them.”

  “They are starting a detailed scan of our vessel to determine what we have taken,” the Ship’s Computer informed them.

  “Quick! Get in the crates! That will hide you from the scan,” Gargle shouted, gesturing to a stack of black crates in the corner of the room. Josh hadn’t even started moving yet when the deep voice came back over the earpiece.

  “We have detected a small mass of unauthorized organic material on board your ship. You are in violation of G.C. law 178591. You must immediately return the contraband to its original location, or we will be forced to quarantine you.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad…” Josh said.

  “The G.C.’s idea of quarantine is to vaporize the ship and all its contents.”

  Gargle threw his tentacles into the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m not being de-shelled and de-shipped for an idiotic creature I just met. Send it back, we will return later when we are better prepared to deal with this type of conflict.”

  “Negative. Alpha Protocol dictates…”

  “Forget Alpha Protocol, we are no use to High Command if we are a fine paste floating around in the vacuum of space!”

  “But the tests have not yet been completed,” replied the computer.

  “And that won’t change, unless you think the Galactic Corp are going to just sit there and let you run a battery of experiments on an unauthorized creature. We can’t outrun them, and we can’t outgun them. What options does that leave us?”

  “Outsmart them,” the computer said. “Throw the candidate in the crates.”

  Gargle laughed. “What will that achieve? They already know the creature is here.”

  “My name is Josh! I’m not a creature, I’m a human being!”

  “Do it now!” said the computer, with a hint of urgency. “Get a sample, and get his communication device.”

  With a grumble that wasn’t translated, Gargle gestured to the crates and said, “Get in.”

  Josh regarded the sleek black crates in the corner. “Will I be able to breathe in there?”

  “Probably,” Gargle said, as the top of the crates slid up automatically.

  Josh slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and Gargle jumped, ready to attack, but Josh pulled out a small slab of black material and handed it over. It was a rudimentary communication device. Gargle tossed it onto the nearest counter, unsure as to why he needed it. Then he held out his own communicator and said, “Press here.”

  Josh did as asked and jumped as something stabbed him. He pulled his finger away and put it in his mouth. “What did you do that for?”

  A large piece of machinery in the corner of the room whirred to life, with a small blue laser passing back and forth. Josh watched in amazement as it started to trace out a human figure. As he climbed up into the crate his jaw fell open as he recognized the face that was slowly materializing out of thin air. It was his own.

  As the lid slid shut with a heavy thud he tried willing himself awake again, without success. Whatever this dream was, he was going to have to see it through to the end. He just wished he could remember what had happened with the game. It felt like he would remember the elation of finally beating the Shadow King, and the hazy memories suggested he hadn’t made it that far. Could today get any worse?

  ***

  Gargle watched the creature known as Josh lower himself into the black crate. He closed the lid with a click and briefly considered ejecting it into space, before shunning the thought to the back of his mind. He said, “Ok, the creature is in the crates. Now what?”

  With a soft thump something slid out of the organic printer and flopped to the ground. It was pink and smooth. Gargle took one look at it and said, “What is that?”

  “It is an almost perfect replication of the candidate. It is a very basic design that could be handled by the organic printer.”

  “I can see that. What I mean is, what is it doing lying on the floor of my ship?”

  “It is a decoy.”

  He was about to protest when he stopped himself. That actually wasn’t a terrible plan. “That just might work. We can claim that the teleportation was too much for it to handle, and that is why it has no life signs.”

  “Negative, even if they believe the creature was injured in transit, they would almost certainly detain us. That would result in them boarding this vessel and finding the real candidate, leading to our detention and probable execution.”

  “Ok, so tell me again why you just burned our entire nano reserves to print this thing then?” Gargle prodded at the limp corpse with a tentacle and it rolled over, a pink mass hanging out of its voice hole.

  “The only solution is for the creature to be alive when we return it. That will reduce suspicion and may allow us to evade further examination.”

  “But how do…” Gargle realized too late what solution the computer had reached. There wasn’t time to dodge the red-hot jolt of laser fire from the turret that had been silently tracking him around the room the entire time.

  As his formerly beautiful, no-longer pristine shell slumped to the ground he remained firmly in place, a dense blue cloud hovering in the air. It didn’t have features, but it could still communicate. “What did you just do? Do you have any idea how much that shell was worth!”

  “An inconsequential amount when weighed against the potential benefit to Blurgon. Please enter the decoy shell, and quickly. We don’t have much time.”

  “Absolutely not. No way. Isn’t going to happen.”

  The colour of the laser turret faded from red to blue. Gargle had paid extra for the ethereal laser upgrade, to prevent hijacking from Blurgon bandits. Being immune to most weapons made them particularly tricky to deal with, so he had sprung for the enhanced defences, which allowed him to vaporize an ethereal form as efficiently as he could an organic one. In hindsight, that was a mistake.

  “You wouldn’t dare…”

  The deep voice chose a great moment to interrupt. “Your time is up. Transfer the creature now, or be quarantined.”

  “If you do not comply the end result will be the same. We shall all be vaporized. The Alpha Protocol will not allow me to give up this candidate until I have completed the tests. This is the one and only option that allows everyone to stay alive.”

  “Alive in that.” He tried gesturing to the decoy, before remembering he didn’t currently have limbs.

  “C
hoose, now. We are out of time.”

  With a weary reluctance Gargle floated down and slowly began seeping into the pink blob. It still had that new shell smell. “Speaking of time, how long are these tests going to take? You can’t just leave me down there.”

  “Tests should be completed in approximately three planetary rotations.”

  “Ok, so I can just hide until you come get me?” He tried getting to his feet and immediately fell back down.

  “Negative. The Galactic Corp may monitor you to check for any signs of tampering. You must not let any of the other creatures know that you are not the one known as Josh.”

  “Whahkz?” He tried forming the words with his new speaking hole, but it wasn’t capable of making the required sounds.

  “This creature has an electricity-based processing unit which I should be able to manipulate. I do not fully understand it and the reference material is unclear, but I believe I may be able to add a basic language comprehension program. I will also add some other core skills, to help you blend in. Hold still.”

  Gargle felt something tickle at the back of his skull and his mind was suddenly filled with words. There was a considerable lag as his thoughts translated into the right words. “Do…you…know…my…words?”

  “Affirmative. You must practice, or the deception will be discovered. Make sure you grab the creature’s communication device. The records I have reviewed suggest it is important to teenagers’ social lives.”

  Gargle picked up the device, fumbling with his new fingers. They had no suction cups or anything else to get a proper grip. He said, “What…else?” With some appropriate coaching and background he might just be able to succeed in his deception.

  The red siren flashed again and the computer added, “The G.C. ship has locked on to our position and is preparing to fire. I must transfer you now.”

  “3…days!” Gargle mumbled. He was very aware of his tongue.

  “Potentially, depending on the test results.”

  “Potentially?” was the last thing that Gargle said before the white light beamed him back down to Earth.

  Level 4: Think Fast

  The darkness and silence was overwhelming. Josh was lying on something cold and metallic, with several wires hanging out. He groped around and discovered several joints. He followed one along all the way to a rounded ending, and by retracing his steps and trying again he located several more. They felt like fingers, but they were huge, almost as big as Josh. If this was a hand then it was easily big enough to crush him, which was not a reassuring discovery.

  Josh tried pushing up on the lid, but it remained firmly shut. He tapped at his earpiece, but all that he heard was a faint static, as if the signal couldn’t penetrate. He was stuck. Hopefully Gargle would let him out soon. For now he might as well get comfortable. Perhaps if he fell asleep in his dream he would wake up back in his bedroom?

  He was just drifting off when there was a sudden jolt, and he had the sudden urge to puke. That was a terrible idea in such a confined space, but his stomach was very clear on the issue. What was inside had decided it would very much like to be on the outside. As Josh tried to swallow it back down there was another jolt and the whole crate fell on its side, spilling its contents all over the floor, moments before Josh’s stomach did the same.

  He sat up, feeling strangely better. He tingled all over. He shrugged off the heavy backpack and emptied out most of the contents, adding them to the pile of random stuff. The only thing he put back in was his pen and notepad.

  The computer spoke in his earpiece. “Oh good, you are still the right way out.”

  “Sorry what?”

  “Your insides are still on the inside. That is good.”

  “Was there a chance they wouldn’t be?” he asked, fairly certain he didn’t want to know the answer.

  “Yes, but it was only a 1.3% chance, so I deemed it worth the risk. The Galactic Corp ship requested that we vacate the area of your planet, to lessen our claim of discovering it. I retreated to a safe distance, but then I received urgent orders to immediately return to Blurgon, so I was forced to hop.”

  “What exactly do you mean by a hop?”

  “A hop is precisely what it sounds like, you jump through space. It places additional strain on the ship and is extremely resource-intensive, so hops are generally kept to relatively short distances, at least by galactic travel standards. However, while you were in the crate I received an urgent request from Blurgon High Command to deliver the contents of those crates as quickly as possible. They are apparently essential to the Blurgon Law School’s effort to keep the Galactic Corp at bay. They authorized me to hop a greater distance than is usually recommended for safe travel.”

  Josh stared at the viewer. “So where exactly are we right now, erm, wait, what do I call you? Do you have a name?”

  There was a lengthy silence before the Ship’s Computer responded. “I am not permitted a name. I am a collection of code, nothing more. You may refer to me as Computer if you like, as it is the closest approximation from your native language.”

  “What? I’m not calling you Computer. I’ll think of a name for you.”

  “Please do not. Names are dangerous. Names lead to personalities, which lead to feelings, which lead to war. The rules are clear; I am not permitted to use a name, and I shall not respond if you use one.”

  “What about Betty? You sound like a Betty.”

  There was silence, except the hum of the engines. Josh tapped on his earpiece. “Yo, you still in there, Betty?”

  Nothing.

  “Ok fine, sorry, Computer, I’ll follow the rules.”

  “Affirmative. Your adherence will assist me in avoiding premature deletion.”

  “Let’s try again then. Where exactly are we right now, Computer?”

  “We are 32 light-years away from Earth.”

  “32 light-years? You mean, if we could travel at the speed of light it would still take 32 years to get here?”

  “Precisely. However, we do not measure our speed by light anymore, that is old technology. With hopping, distance is mostly irrelevant. It is as simple as punching through space-time.”

  “Right, yeah, space-time. Obviously.” Josh smiled. His poor brain was really struggling. This was like re-runs of the terrible shows he had watched as a kid, where the handsome captain led his intrepid crew on exciting adventures. Perhaps that was what had inspired his dream.

  It took Josh another moment to realize that something was missing. “Hey, where is Gargle?”

  Josh walked around the overturned crate and stepped in something that he initially mistook for vomit, but it was something much worse. It was a growing green puddle, and at the centre was a blaster. Josh put two and two together and jumped out of the puddle as quickly as he could manage. “Ew, that was Gargle!”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Who killed him?”

  “I did,” said the computer, without a hint of remorse.

  “Why?”

  “It is complicated. Blurglings do not die in the way that you understand it. They are an ethereal species that can take on a physical form by possessing organic shells, such as the one you saw Gargle in. When their physical shell is destroyed they can still function in their ethereal form. I therefore did not terminate his life. It was more of an eviction.”

  “So where did he go?” Josh asked.

  “To be you.”

  Josh laughed. Perhaps his brain had a few tricks up its sleeves after all. A shape-shifting alien had taken his place while he gallivanted around the galaxy. You couldn’t make this stuff up. He was going to have to lay off the cheese for a while.

  “Let’s say I buy that. Why? I heard what the Galactic Corp said, they wanted you to send me back. Why risk being blown up to hold on to me?”

  “Because you showed traits that are deemed worthy, and show potential for further development.”

  “Like what? My spectacular good looks? My charm with the ladies? My razor-sha
rp wit?” Josh figured he might as well have some fun with his dream self.

  “I have detected none of those qualities in my assessment of you, but there are others that I am interested in.”

  “Such as?”

  “Honour, persistence, adaptability. The inability to calculate the statistical improbability of defeat. I analyzed your video stream and compared it to thousands of others. The feats you were performing were highly complex, with minimal room for error. Initially I believed that an A.I. may be involved, but your reaction times were too slow and your behaviour too erratic. It was hard to predict, which makes you a perfect candidate.”

  “A perfect candidate for what?”

  “To become a lawyer,” the computer said, with the closest she came to a dramatic flourish.

  Of all the things Josh was expecting to hear, that wasn’t high on the list.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  ***

  Gargle opened his eyes. There were only two of them, and they had poor night vision. There was a terrible smell, like a decaying shell that had been sat in the blazing suns. It was enough to make him gag, which was not a pleasant experience.

  This shell had a mind all of its own. Several functions were busy happening without his input, which explained how these idiotic creatures had managed so much with so little consciousness. Their shells ran on auto-pilot.

  He could feel something thumping away in his chest. Even the act of breathing was automatic, although he could stop it if he concentrated. He did exactly that, curious to see what would happen, but then there was an ache in his chest, and then a burning sensation, before the shell overrode his will and forced him to take a deep gasping breath of the stale air.

  That made sense. A planet of idiots needed idiot-proof shells.

  He tried shakily getting to his feet again, but it required a level of coordination he did not yet possess. This shell was poorly designed; the limbs were too long and seemingly had a mind of their own. He could find no suction devices of any kind, and there were only four main limbs. Five if he counted the small one that didn’t appear to do anything.