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Cosmic Tales 7: Virus

Page 2

by Richard C. Parr


  "Well, we don't have any."

  "You're not very good at negotiations," said Elwood.

  "Who is this being?" said the tribal leader.

  "This is the earth man Elwood Makepiss," said Nipnamnom. "He has a special talent that could prove beneficial to your advancement."

  The tribal leader looked Elwood up and down and then frowned at Nipnamnom.

  "Is this a slave trade-off?"

  "Hey, I am not being traded as a slave!" said Elwood, and Nipnamnom responded, "No sudden movements! That includes your lips."

  Elwood felt it coming on again. He needed to loosen the pressure in his bowels. Nipnamnom said, "Our visitor has a rare talent.

  "Then I demand to see this so-called talent before we get impatient and gnaw a gaping hole in this dam."

  Nipnamnom dragged Elwood by the hand and stood him in front of one of the boats, clearing the path of tribesmen all eager to see what was going on. Elwood swallowed hard and held his breath momentarily at the sight of sinister primitive beaver faces glaring back at him. He recalled his regular bouts of performance anxiety and having to address groups of people from his drama classes. How he hated those days. And now he stood on the shore of a far distant world facing the exact same problem, this time to alien faces, and the problem grew exponentially. His intestines loosened and his lower tract practically fell out. A resounding fart echoed, hit the nearest mountain and bounced off. There was a brief silence before a little one splattered out for the finish. The faces staring back at him bore intense surprise and unexpected revelation. The tribal leader dropped his spear.

  "He...he farted," he said. "Do you know what this means?"

  Nipnamnom nodded. "Free energy."

  "This is revolutionary. We must harness this energy and use it to its full potential. Men, get to work!"

  A flurry of bodies ran in every direction and the scenario left Elwood scratching his head. The Nanpinian doctors disappeared leaving him with Rodeena perched on his arm. Many hours later, Elwood was transferred to a boat and placed in a diving suit with oxygen. They lowered him into the water and the tribesmen gathered at the shore. Elwood blasted one out as hard as he could - some would say a little too hard - and a giant bubble floated to the surface. The tribal leader gasped in wonder and exhilaration at the miraculous breakthrough. On the second attempt, the tribesmen managed to harness a fart bubble and keep it underwater. Its structure, contents and shape were studied for later attempts at recreating bubbles.

  Soon afterwards, Elwood was face to face with the tribal leader.

  "This is a magical day in our race's history," he said. "Thanks to you, we can learn this...new technology, even produce our own form of this energy. These bubbles can house colonies of plants and sea creatures. The gas can power homes or vehicles. Finally our race can progress. Sometimes in life your race's greatest achievements come from the unlikeliest of sources. May your humans continue to squat and produce gas. Thank you, thank you!"

  The tribal leader kissed Elwood on the forehead and a campfire was constructed which saw the locals dance around, drink and play games into the sunset. The tribal leader ceremoniously handed over the antidote to Nipnamnom and peace ensued between the two factions

  * * * * *

  "You are a very confusing individual," said Nipnamnom to Wingclipper who was starting to feel much better. He had received the rare antidote of a wild green and purple vegetable that acted as a cure all for infections of the lower regions, and his mental and physical state had rapidly improved in less than a day. He sat upright energetically.

  "I can be confusing. Nobody understands me, but at least the people inside my head get me. I have great conversations with them."

  "Are you in politics?" said Nipnamnom.

  "Was that you?"

  "All right, Captain Wingclipper. One final check before I release you. I want to test your reflexes."

  "Go ahead."

  "Your ship is on fire and a marketing manager is stuck inside! Hmm. No reaction. Well done, you're fine. As for your robot..."

  Wingclipper watched 234 sitting with a group of beaver children playing with building blocks, abacuses, teddies and jigsaws.

  "The clean-up disc will take time to kick in, then its intellect and memory will return."

  "Sir, I am ready to leave these children behind and progress to the two piece jigsaw."

  "And one more thing, Wingclipper. Do not attempt to fly your ship until you are recovered."

  "Understood. I won't go anywhere near that cockpit."

  * * * * *

  Wingclipper took off at a steep angle and the crew held on to the table in the command room. Once the Chromium Bullet was in orbit around the planet, he activated the ship's autopilot and joined them for dinner. Rodeena was going through the motions of getting comfortable in her own skin again having morphed back from being an eagle, and Elwood sat staring at his food. He had not even picked up his cutlery.

  Wingclipper ate and examined the vegetable that had restored his health. It didn't seem to ripen, soften, decay or smell. He marvelled at its permanently fresh state. He threw it upwards and watched it hover in mid air. Impressed, he threw it towards the wall and saw it stop within millimetres of making contact.

  "It has an automatic survival response," he said to nobody's interest. Bink hovered to the vegetable and opened a hatch containing an examination rod. It poked gingerly at the surface, then a splat of goo came out and shot Bink in the eye, and the ball droid fled with a squeak and a bleep. Moments later, the vegetable made its way to the cockpit and joined 234 at the controls. Wingclipper watched the ship dip, swerve and pull some fast manoeuvres.

  "What are you doing, 234? Have you disengaged the autopilot?"

  "Sir, I have not touched a thing. The ship appears to be moving on its own accord."

  "Unless..."

  Unless, Wingclipper thought, the vegetable had the ability to pilot a ship and defend itself.

  In the command room, Rodeena placed her arm around Elwood and then felt his forehead. He was burning. His cheeks were flushed and dark pools of sweat had developed from his armpits. She watched as his breathing became heavier and snot began to run on to his shirt.

  "I'm wondering if you came into contact with a virus on that planet," said Rodeena.

  "I don't think so. We were there for some time. This has developed very quickly, since we've been on the ship."

  Elwood looked at a plastic bottle on the table, then recalled the story about how Wingclipper became ill. He regretted drinking from it.

  "Oh no..." he mumbled.

  "What's wrong?"said Rodeena.

  "Get me...the...vegetable..." he replied before collapsing to sleep with his head lolled backwards. Rodeena went straight into the cockpit and was immediately grabbed excitedly by Wingclipper. Before she could speak, he was ranting hysterically.

  "If we can just find the right buyer, Rodeena, the right buyer for the vegetable, and demonstrate its rare qualities, we can get a bigger ship, Rodeena, we can get a faster hyper drive, we can get more powerful weaponry, have a hiatus, get visas to the outer planets, go back to Nanpin, use Elwood's farts to bargain us more of these vegetables. We could distribute them. We could be super rich. I could buy my way out of the galactic military. I will never be chased again. A free man, roaming space..."

  "Elwood's ill and he needs to eat the vegetable. Where is it?"

  "No! You can't!"

  "Give me the damned vegetable! Elwood is suffering very badly."

  Wingclipper transformed his grip into a vice hold and Rodeena threw her hands in to prize away the treasured item. Wingclipper bit down on her forearm and she wailed, then focused her third eye crystal until a ray of light shone out. The light scorched Wingclipper's clothing and set his trousers on fire, causing him to dance around like a mad circus act searching for the extinguisher. He dropped the vegetable and yanked the extinguisher from the fire safety cupboard, and while he was desperately trying to put out the flame,
Rodeena pounced on the bouncing defensive vegetable and put it in her pocket.

  * * * * *

  Elwood slowly opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling of the medical bay. The dead flat bed he had been spread out on caused aches to tingle down his spine. He turned his neck repeatedly to stretch the muscle and fade the cramp from having slept at an awkward angle. He rubbed his shoulder and wiped cold sweat from his face with a towel. He was unusually alert and his body felt like performing activity. He looked over to the bedside table and saw the remnants of the green and purple vegetable, in segments, softening and eroding. It was tasty and curious.

  The medical bay doors hissed open and Wingclipper entered.

  "Here's my champ," he said. "How are you feeling?"

  "Better. What the hell happened to your trousers?"

  "Ah, just a...maintenance injury from the engine room. Say, are those leftovers of the vegetable?"

  "It appears so."

  "You wouldn't...you're not hungry by any chance?"

  "Hmm...no."

  "Well, that's good. I mean, it's good you've eaten."

  "Yes, it is good."

  "Indeed."

  Wingclipper extended his hand slowly, grinned a sly unsettling grin at Elwood, then obtained a slice of the remaining vegetable, pulling it close to his body while taking a nervous glance at the doorway. Rodeena passed and performed a double take when she saw Wingclipper acting suspiciously. He quickly replaced the vegetable piece on the table and restyled his hair, then Rodeena squinted a narrow sinister gaze before heading to the command room.

  "Hey, Phoenix. Are you thirsty?" said Elwood.

  "I am absolutely parched."

  "Go ahead and have a drink."

  Elwood motioned to the plastic bottle on his side table, and Wingclipper picked it up. He unscrewed the cap and took several gulps, and as he basked in refreshment, Elwood sighed in satisfaction.

  Got you back, he thought.

  * * * * *

  Written by Richard C. Parr

  * * * * *

  About the Author

  Richard C. Parr was born in 1986 in England and lives in Nottingham. He has travelled to 20 countries and runs a blog at HumanEmbodiment.com.

  Contact Me

  Email: becomingwhatis@hotmail.com

  Twitter: @HumanEmbodiment

 


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