Cosmic Tales 3: Missing In Action

COSMIC TALES #3: MISSING IN ACTION

  By

  Richard C. Parr

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  PUBLISHED BY

  Cosmic Tales #3: Missing In Action

  Copyright (C) 2015 by Richard C. Parr

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  This particular copy of the eBook series Cosmic Tales is licensed for the enjoyment of everyone. It may be freely distributed to others without conditions. Thank you for supporting the author by downloading and reading this story.

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  Missing In Action

  Calm ripples dissipated across the surface of a lake against the pink sky of dusk, and Elwood suddenly became aware of his own presence. Moments previously he had been working with Bink to repair the Chromium Bullet's storage room electrical supply. He moved his legs and found he was trudging through marshland, struggling as sticky reeds attached and wrapped themselves around his legs, constricting his blood flow. Using might, he came loose and rose to a bank. He felt a crisp coolness to the air. Drips came from his nose and numbness grew in his hands. Looking on he saw a strange monument materialise in the mist. Its stone steps led to a hexagonal surface and an archway from one end to the other. He walked cautiously up each step, wondering when Rodeena or Wingclipper would return.

  As the mist cleared, the archway revealed its true nature. Elwood reached under the arch and touched glass. Where was he in the reflection? He felt the outline of his body and his face to make sure he was real, but still the reflection was blank. Then, at his feet, came an apparition. It blended into reality and sat, gleaming, tempting and waiting. He picked it up and ran the surface through his fingers, loosening its chord and tying it around his neck. In the mirror he saw a medallion hanging around his invisible figure, glowing blue in the centre. In its centre he saw a sword and a planet with a defined set of rings; and then, against the quieting wind, there came a softening female voice:

  "Come home."

  The archway and mirror shattered and flattened, crumbling and collapsing into rubble. The platform slowly sank and the steps submerged. The lake began to boil and steam rose. Unable to reach land, he cried out for help. As the platform went beneath the lake and the heat fried his shoes, he became stuck in a sticky chemical reaction. The melting, smouldering lake turned his feet to glue. The skin on his legs broke out in flames. His screams grew louder and desperate, acting as mere echoes on an empty, vast terrain. His chest and arms dissolved into the liquid, and as he blubbered with the boiling flow entering his mouth, his frantic pleas were silenced in a gargling pain.

  "Help me!"

  The cry jolted Rodeena awake and she sprinted to Elwood's aid. She found him drenched in sweat with heavy, laboured breathing, staring with wide open eyes at the far wall of his quarters, fixated on a single point and not daring to break contact. As Rodeena touched his arm, he recoiled and gazed at her in terror. His lips curled downwards and she saw his irises blacken as if the life had been petrified out of his body.

  "Elwood! Look at me. Look at me. Relax. Everything is okay. Now breathe. Breathe deeply and slowly. Do it with me."

  He copied her actions and colour rose to his cheeks. His life force returned incrementally and his body became pliant and calm. A look of terror gave way to relief and surprise.

  "I'm on the ship, right? There's no lake? There's no fire?"

  "You had a nightmare. Let me get you a drink."

  Rodeena tried to pull her hand away but Elwood's grip was too firm.

  "I don't know what happened. I don't know where I was. It was some kind of vision."

  Elwood felt around his neck. The medallion was gone.

  "What did you see?" she said. Elwood looked at Rodeena with a mix of intensity and dejection.

  "I cannot remember."

  Rodeena sighed, squeezed Elwood's arm and went to the command room in search of a drink. As she went out of sight, the outline of 234 came and stood in the doorway.

  "Perhaps humans dream as a way of deleting unwanted memories. I occasionally regress to wipe thousands of files of obsolete information."

  "Sounds like a nightmare."

  "It is a vital component for sustainable circuitry. Except the captain never allows me to delete the videos of interplanetary women I download. They play havoc with my firewall. Method one, fix valve A, 240 volts, increase outage. For level 54, use necessary provided bolts. Affix to formation C. Warning: only use tools in assembly kit provided."

  "Is that a virus?"

  "Kill all humans."

  "You have another virus. Try powering on and off a few times."

  234 rotated and wandered in the direction of the cockpit to pester Wingclipper. When the robot was gone, Elwood bounced out of bed and into the bathroom. He locked the door and stood in front of the mirror, seeing his reflection, making sure he really was present and it wasn't the kind of dream where he would wake up and discover himself inside another one, continually trying to awaken and lost going through layer after layer of dream. He remembered the medallion and a slight tingling, burning sensation rose in his chest.

  There came a knocking on the door.

  "Mr. Makepeace. We will be landing at Kapital shopping station in ten minutes. Please prepare for disembarkation."

  "Thank you, 234."

  "I love you so much I would eat a crayon for you. Then vomit and eat the same crayon. Kill all humans."

  "Keep powering on and off."

  Elwood looked down at the water in the sink. He felt tremors. Then, ripples began to surface, followed by the formation of miniature waves. The water's temperature rose dramatically. He wrenched out his hands as the water boiled. His palms glowed a pinkish red. He gasped, then looked again and saw the bubbles had dissipated. The ripples calmed and blended into a mildly disturbed surface. The water stilled. He checked the temperature and found it was cold.

  "What is this?" he said, grabbing a towel, staring at his fatigued figure and leaving. In the corner of the ceiling, a large female spider dangled, descended on a web, and on hitting the floor, mutated into the greenish blue figure of Rodeena. She had seen it all.

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  Wingclipper walked into the command room draining the last few drops of his beer and smashing the bottle against the hardened metallic torso of 234. He stumbled and fell into a seat at the round table.

  "Another p...another perfect landing," he slurred as Elwood and Rodeena recovered from the violent, torturous shaking of the ship as it had plummeted and levelled out like an uncontrollable elevator. "S...sorry about before. At first I th...I thought we were in the right place, but then I couldn't s...see any tall buildings or the landing bay. Then it occ...it occurred to me that a space station doesn't h...doesn't have all those beaches and p...palm trees. Where did all that s...sea come from?"

  "Well I'm relieved we had enough fuel to leave their atmosphere and finally get here," said Elwood.

  "Hey, doh...don't blame me, g...girth...earthman. I just f...fly this thing. 234, are you t...turning the ship around because something feels like it's psp...spinning."

  "Bink, do you have the list of items we need?" said Rodeena.

  "o---o--ih-oo-b-e--e."

  "Excellent. Everyone, let's disembark. Not you, Phoenix. Stay here and sober up."

  The hatch opened and the crew walked on to a new landscape. What greeted them was an air conditioned, atmospherically controlled paradise of shops lined by skyscrapers and craft soaring overhead in the traffic lanes. A mixture of blurring grey, white and purple dominated the scene as lights, ships and uniformed beings flurried past. Their present position resembled one gigantic parking lot next to one of the largest concrete blocks they had ever seen, and inside the concrete block wa
s even more life than on the outside. The place was known as a hive of consumerism. It was called the Kapital shopping centre - the place where lifelong dreams were fulfilled and where money went to die.

  "Ooh, dresses," said 234.

  "First we have to buy the essentials," said Rodeena.

  "Lipstick?"

  "Engine oil, wrenches, screwdrivers, customised repair kits. Otherwise the next planet we go to we will definitely be stranded on, and seeing the state of the captain, the next planet we go to we will definitely start a confrontation with."

  Suddenly, a seething little man descended a ladder from a booth and made his way across the concrete to the Chromium Bullet's landing bay. He waited with folded arms and watched Wingclipper walk with his feet pointed inwards down the ship's ramp. Wingclipper grinned at the little man who bore his teeth in return, then with the tiniest of slips, he lost hold of his beer, watched it roll from side to side down the ramp and across the ground, creating the familiar sound of a careening, empty glass, and then as he took another step, he watched surprised as his own legs refused to walk properly and buckled inwards. The little man witnessed the inebriated captain fold, come down in a controlled demolition, slip to one side, hang over the edge of the ramp, saw his trousers fall to his ankles and his jacket slip over his head, then frowned as the captain swayed upside down.

  "This is the last time, Wingclipper!" hissed the little man. "No more uncontrolled landings. I'm writing to the military to have you retake the flying test. No pilot in the galaxy should allow his ship to free fall from heaven and then have the balls to use full power propulsion to break the landing feet from the ground. You blew away those two ships! I can't afford to have any more insurance claims filed against you! Is your ship even insured? Hey, Wingclipper! Are you listening to me? As the launch pad controller I demand you to stop dangling and come down here at once! You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do."

  Wingclipper rocked like a pendulum. The controller jumped, caught his jacket and pulled him over the ramp's edge, and they both collapsed in a pile.

  "Another prof...professional landing," said Wingclipper. "Well ex...executed."

  "I'll have my men execute you for causing bodily harm. Oh, hip joint!"

  "Wh...where? I need another drink."

  "Don't you walk away from me!"

 

  A chauffeur presented himself immaculately to Wingclipper, offering a gloved hand. Taking pity on the young man, Wingclipper reached into his pocket, took out some coins and placed them in his glove.

  "Sir, I want the key to your ship," said the chauffeur.

  "Wh...what you need my key for?"

  "You are blocking an entrance. I need to move you to another parking bay."

  "Oh, all...all right then," hiccupped Wingclipper, taking back the coins and placing the electronic keypad in the chauffeur's glove. Not realising what he'd done, he whispered to the young man, "B...buy yourself a drink."

  "I can buy a lot more than a drink with this," said the chauffeur.

  Wingclipper shuffled forwards with his trousers and gun belt rattling around his ankles.

  "S...something wr...wrong with the gr...gravity here," he mumbled.

  * * * * *

  "o---y--w--a-e," bleeped Bink, making a scan of the immediate area.

  "Looks like they're shooting a commercial," said Rodeena. "We should go over and watch the filming. What do you think, Elwood?"

  "Not right now," he said, fiddling with his fingernails.

  "It will take your mind off the nightmare."

  "Do you always have to sit there, gazing at me and reading my mind?"

  "I'm not."

  "We're done shopping. Perhaps you can go back to the ship and I can stay here for a while."

  Rodeena sat closer to Elwood. Sensing her approach, he stood up. She sighed as he walked away.

  "I saw the water boil in the sink."

  "So if you're not reading my thoughts, you're spying on me. What were you this time, a rodent?"

  "A spider, up high in the corner. There's no way you would have seen me."

  Elwood laughed, then his face turned sour.

  "I'll be honest with you, Ro. I'm really scared. I thought it was just an illusion, but I could feel my hands burning. But now look. There's no damage. It was more than just a nightmare. I want to know what it means."

  "Dreams bring us signs," said Rodeena as she placed a hand on Elwood's shoulder. "Signs that are subjective, relevant to only you. These signs act as an internal compass pointing to an answer. For me they point home. I dream of my home nearly every night. I miss it dearly. I miss the company of my people. Signs come in other forms too. For example a book drops from the shelf and opens at a page. The first sentence on that page is a message. I see references to my people in articles and news stories. I wonder if it's a reminder to go home. I see pictures that remind me of the mountains where I used to live. Phoenix says something abnormal or incredibly stupid that triggers a memory. You tell me a story from your planet that reminds me of childhood. These are all signs. It is the universe's way of telling your story, of shaping your path. When you surrender control and submit to the awe inspiring nature of the infinite universe, you can see your destination clearly mapped out. One simply has to go with the signs. Then you have peace of mind, clarity and certainty, and are guided with the soul and not by fear. So is the nature of the seemingly endless universe."

  "To me Ro, the universe is like a Peter Jackson movie. It has no end."

  Nearby, a member of the production staff filming the commercial called out for a glass of water and for one of the actors to be ready for shooting.

  "Is that glass of water a sign?" said Elwood with a glint of a smile.

  "It could be," said Rodeena.

  "Then let's see what they are up to."

  The director yelled 'action' as the camera crew shuffled around the set. A crowd of mixed aliens gathered to watch the show. With the lighting effects in place, an actress sat on a bench peering at the director, shrugging her shoulders, then standing up and resigning herself to her specially appointed chair out of the scene.

  "I'm getting tired and impatient," she said. "He should have been here ten minutes ago."

  "Send someone to drag him from his cigarette break," said the director, gesturing to one of the floor staff, who ran away with a clipboard and a headset. "Tell him he's fired if he disappears on us again."

  "I'll take his place," came a voice of heroic masculinity from the crowd of aliens. The director watched the ex-military pilot materialise with hands on hips, feeling hung over and about to throw up. The lethargic squanderer, loved and hated many worlds over, sprang his self-adored, self-righteous torso forwards to grace the set with his presence. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it. That's my motto. See this face? It, not I, but it can perform any emotion. Say goodbye to that unreliable actor. I have all the credentials you are looking for."

  "Is he coming back?" yelled the director, and the clipboard, headset clad floor staff member trembled at the commanding voice. "I'll take that as a no. Well, wannabe. Today is your lucky day. What's your name?"

  "Good old Captain Phoenix Wingclipper."

  "Ok, chicken dipper wing. As our main actor has vanished for the time being, we may have to take away the kissing scene, buuuut I'm sure that won't be a problem. All you have to do is endorse our product."

  "Great. Show me the way into show business."

  Rodeena, Elwood and 234 chuckled at the sight of Wingclipper receiving a dose of makeup and reading a script. Their attention was quickly diverted by the alert bleep sounded by Bink who was scanning the mezzanine floor.

  "u--u-y---g--g--e--u."

  "What's up with Bink?" said Elwood.

  "o--f-f-a-a---e---e-a."

  "You need to get your sensors tested. When is the last time your circuitry was updated?"

  Rodeena stepped forward and focused upstairs.

  "I don't think he's malfunctioning, 234. He's aler
ting us to danger."

  Without warning, Bink floated up some steps and zoned in on its target.

  The others followed. Bink bleeped and they hid behind a wall. Rodeena saw that Bink was focusing on a hair-gelled, efficiently groomed man. This man had slowed his canter to a trail, paying attention to anything in pursuit. He glanced back and saw just a myriad of patrolling guards, cleaners, a family of aliens searching for a religious seasonal toy that would be played with for ten minutes before getting discarded in favour of the packaging it came in, and several fluffy white balls with massive green eyes singing and dancing in unison to a tribal tune. He then saw the crew of the Chromium Bullet pretending to take interest in a large poster depicting beach and mountaineering holidays on distant temperate planets. The man thought nothing of them and continued at pace to his destination. His commercial career may have been over, but at least he was getting the keys to a new ship and a new life.

  The crew tracked him all the way to a bar for captains of vessels preparing to leave. The chauffeur would first bring the ship into its departure bay, then freshen it up with air scent and a swift clean of the interior decor, then go to the bar to hand the key to the owner - or in the case of Wingclipper, the unofficial taker.