《Nebulanomicon》 Chapter 1. The Drunken Professor New York City. 1950. Jonas Jupiter, genius inventor and enthusiastic bachelor, was lying in his prototype medical pod. If only I could get this blasted thing to work, I could drink as much as I like and never have a hangover again, he thought to himself. He decided to have another go at finishing the prototype as soon as he sobered up. The door slammed open and Jonas¡¯s stout assistant, Dr. Korl Borg entered the room in a frantic state. ¡°Professor Jupiter, I¡ªEgads man! What¡¯s this?!¡± Borg crossed the room quickly, passing various tables and workstations covered in gadgets and gizmos and liquor bottles. He unintentionally kicked an empty bottle of scotch and it skittered across the laboratory floor, knocking over a row of beer bottles. ¡°Leave me be!¡± shouted the professor as he shut the pod¡¯s lid on himself. Dr. Borg sighed heavily and reopened the pod. A mostly empty bottle tumbled out of the med-pod and shattered on the floor. Dr. Borg backed away from the puddle of scotch and shards of glass. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sport,¡± mumbled the professor, ¡°It¡¯s bottom shelf stuff. Not even worth the trouble.¡± ¡°Professor, you¡¯re drunk,¡± said Dr. Borg. ¡°I¡¯m not drunk; I¡¯m inventing,¡± insisted Jonas. He swung his legs over the side of the med-pod and sat up, cracking his back as he did so. He was in his early forties, not an old man yet but still too old to be lying on hard surfaces for hours. He groaned as he stood. He wobbled for a moment before finding his balance. ¡°May spine feels like a Tijuana parade¡ªwell, there¡¯s an idea! Maybe the bed of the med-pod should conform to the spine.¡± He stumbled over to his desk, buried beneath a stack of books and papers, and scribbled the word ¡®spine¡¯ on the first page he grabbed. ¡°Professor.¡± Jonas rubbed his eyes and seemed to truly notice Dr. Borg for the first time. He slouched into the chair behind his desk. Dr. Borg observed the leather on the back of the chair was cracking and it groaned metallically when the professor leaned back and propped his feet up on the desk. If one looked closer they would notice small signs of decay and disuse all over the laboratory. There was a little bit of rust on the corners of the metal cabinets. The countertops were warped and scored. There were more than a few chipped beakers and broken scales. ¡°Ah, yes. Who are you again?¡± ¡°Dr. Borg, sir. I¡¯ve been your assistant for quite some time now.¡± ¡°Hmmm, oh yes! Good to see you, chap! Thanks for coming so soon, although I can¡¯t recall for the life of me why I called you in . . .¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t sir,¡± said Dr. Borg with exasperation. ¡°There¡¯s a developing situation on the space station. Your presence is needed.¡± ¡° . . . Space station?¡± ¡°The SS Foundation, sir. You designed it ten years ago. It¡¯s the flagship of the space program. Professor, are you too inebriated to do this right now?¡± Jonas waved away his concern, ¡°Ah! That space station. I¡¯ve designed several, you know. I¡¯m just a little foggy from . . . my nap. What do I need to bring?¡± ¡°Just your vambrace, sir. I¡¯ve already got everything else loaded.¡± Jonas nodded.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The vambrace was one of Jonas¡¯s most prized inventions and his most useful tool. He rarely worked without it. He closed the chrome device around his forearm then flicked a small switch. There was a faint hissing sound as the pressure cuff within the vambrace inflated to provide a firm fit. He shrugged on his lab coat and polished off the near bottle of scotch. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m ready to go. How are we getting up there, Karl?¡± Korl ignored being called the wrong name. ¡°We¡¯ve got a catapod waiting at the Empire State Laboratory.¡± An hour later, the professor and the doctor were buckled into a catapult-pod, waiting on the launch pad attached to the base of the Empire State Building. The launching device towered over them, attached to the side of the tallest building in New York. The professor¡¯s head was beginning to ache. He was especially resentful of the bright glare coming from the glass door of the pod. He snuck a silver flask from his inner coat pocket and took a long swallow. Dr. Borg looked at him from the side. ¡°That¡¯s not allowed! How did you manage to sneak that on board?¡± ¡°Five dollars goes a long way, Doc. What¡¯s taking the crew so long? Shouldn¡¯t we be in the air by now?¡± asked Jonas. Just then a tin voice came from a speaker inside the pod. ¡°You are cleared for launch in five minutes. Please seal your oversuits at this time.¡± They were wearing large, unwieldy ¡®oversuits¡¯ which were designed to protect the passengers in case the pod was breached while in vacuum or near vacuum. The bulky suits included classic fishbowl-style helmets. Dr. Borg quickly attached his helmet, locked the seal, and began his suit-check. Jonas seemed to have fallen asleep. Dr. Borg gave him a polite shake. The professor jerked upright and looked at Dr. Borg with foggy eyes and said, ¡°Pete?¡± The doctor shook his head, ¡°No, professor. Who is Pete?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you, Karl.¡± A shadow crossed the professor¡¯s face and he looked away. ¡°Korl. You should seal your oversuit, professor. It¡¯s almost time to launch.¡± Jonas began to slowly seal up his oversuit. ¡°First the robot, now the Swede. I won¡¯t be told what¡¯s what by the likes of you two,¡± he mumbled. The metallic voice returned, ¡°Suit check status?¡± The suits were vacuum sealed so the only way to communicate was through the headset built into the helmet. Dr. Borg saw the professor belch then make a face at the smell inside his helmet. The air cycle on these suits was not particularly fast . . . ¡°Dr. Borg, good to go.¡± There was silence from the professor. ¡°Passenger 2?¡± asked the voice politely. ¡°Just launch the damn thing,¡± said the professor, exasperated. ¡°That¡¯s the problem with letting these blasted machines control everything. Rules this, regulations that! Step-by-step-by-step-by-step. People know when regulations are just wasting time. A human knows when to cut corners! If that dumb machine were a real person I¡¯d throttle him.¡± ¡°S-sir?¡± replied the human crewman on the other side of the intercom. ¡°Ugh¡± said Dr. Borg to himself reflexively. Then he pressed the comms button on the side of his helmet, ¡°Please forgive the professor. The situation on the station is dire and he is under a lot of pressure to help.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± replied the crewman. A few moments later, ¡°Sixty seconds to launch.¡± At some point the professor managed to fall asleep again. Dr. Borg waited patiently as the crewman began his count. ¡°3¡± Dr. Borg looked at the professor expectantly. ¡°2¡± A trickle of drool rolled down the professor¡¯s stubbly chin. ¡°1¡± Dr. Borg braced himself. ¡°Launch.¡± The pod shook slightly then the catapult mechanism (which was actually designed more like a trebuchet than a catapult) swung the pod in a wide arc up the side, over the empire state building, and back around the other side. In the few seconds it took to swing around the height of New York¡¯s tallest building once the pod accelerated to 3gs. Dr. Borg noticed some kind of commotion to his left as the professor was startled awake, but the force of acceleration was pressing him into his seat so he could not look. They reached the end of the wind-up and the arm released them smoothly into the air, on a rocket speed trajectory to the upper atmosphere above New York City. Dr. Borg looked out the window appreciatively at the skyscrapers of the gilded city beneath him. He smiled. He admired what humankind had accomplished in just a few decades . . . As they rose through the air, the force of acceleration relinquished its vice grip a little. He looked over to see Jonas struggling in his seat. The visor of his helmet was obscured by a layer of vomit. Chapter 2. Space Station Situation There¡¯s an emergency on the SS Foundation and our hero, alcoholic inventor Jonas Jupiter, is the only man for the job! ¡°You could have warned me the catapod was about to launch, Doc! I nearly had a heart attack,¡± said Jonas. He was holding his vomit-filled helmet at his side. ¡°That¡¯s what the countdown is for,¡± replied Dr. Borg. The two men were standing in the airlock of the SS Foundation, waiting for the decontamination process to complete. The room had been filled with an odorous fog that was gradually dissipating. A light on the wall turned from red to green and was accompanied by a pleasant chime. Then the airlock opened, revealing an imposing figure. ¡°Welcome to the SS Foundation, gentlemen.¡± The figure was tall, broad shouldered, and barrel-chested. He was a military man through and through, from his buzzed haircut, to his pressed blue and white uniform. He stood at a rigid parade-rest, with his hands folded behind his back. His chin and cheeks were clean-shaven but his upper lip held the biggest mustache regulations would allow. It was perfectly maintained in a neat, black rectangle. His semi-permanent scowl seemed to have worn hard lines into his stern face. ¡°Ah, Commander! It is so good to see you again,¡± said Dr. Borg warmly. ¡°I would ask how things are but I¡¯m aware the situation here is not good.¡± The commander shook Dr. Borg¡¯s hand enthusiastically. The hard lines on his face seemed to soften for a very brief moment. The commander clearly felt a deep respect for the doctor. ¡°Commander, let me introduce you to Professor Jonas Jupiter.¡± The commander¡¯s scowl returned, possibly stronger than before. He did not reach out to shake hands, although he did offer a curt nod. ¡°Jonas, this is Commander Grieg.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve, uh, got a little something on your face,¡± said Jonas, pointing at his own stubbly upper lip. Grieg reflexively felt his upper lip only to realize Jonas was talking about his thick mustache. Grieg scowled even deeper. ¡°Professor! It is such an honor to have you here!¡± came a voice from out of nowhere. Jonas was startled by the appearance of a young woman from behind Grieg. She wore the same, tight blue-and-white uniform as the commander but with a different symbol upon her shoulder. She had a pretty face with bright green eyes. She kept her black hair pulled back in a tight, regulation bun. ¡°We are in danger and I am confident a man of your abilities can remedy our problem before things get desperate!¡± said the woman cheerfully. Dr. Borg introduced the young woman, ¡°Professor, this is Kemalia. She is the station¡¯s chief technical officer and an outstanding scientist. A great mind with the potential to do great things!¡± Jonas flashed a charismatic smile at Kemalia, ¡°What a coincidence . . . I¡¯m a scientist, too.¡± ¡°Yes . . . I know,¡± replied Kemalia. She held a smile but her eyes betrayed her confusion. ¡°Please forgive my bluntness, professor, but we don¡¯t really have time for you to flirt with the crew,¡± said Dr. Borg. ¡°But I was just about to seduce Greg,¡± objected Jonas, jokingly. ¡°My name is Grieg and your advances on me will not work. I am on duty, and I am not interested in copulating with you.¡± ¡°Straight to copulation, huh? Not one for the typical dating rituals, like dinner and a movie?¡± ¡°I am confident that we have very different mating rituals.¡± Jonas did not witness the lightning-fast warning look that Borg flashed at Grieg. Jonas reached up and patted the commander on the shoulder, ¡°It was just a joke, Greg. You don¡¯t have much of a sense of humor do you?¡± ¡°I have not yet needed one.¡± Dr. Borg cut in, ¡°Professor, we are here because there is an emergency that requires your immediate attention. Kemalia, will you please show us to the engine control station and debrief us on the situation?¡± ¡°Of course, Dr. Borg,¡± she replied.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°I will be on the command deck,¡± said the commander. ¡°Hey, Greg, can you be a sport and hold this for a moment?¡± Jonas handed his helmet to Grieg. ¡°Thanks, chief.¡± ¡°My name is Grieg and I am a commander, not a chief!¡± said Grieg, but Jonas, who was already following Kemalia and the doctor, only waved over his shoulder. The commander looked down at the helmet he was holding and noticed what was inside. ¡°Ugh.¡± The engine control room was spacious, with several consoles manned by focused workers. The far wall was entirely glass, a window into the engine chamber. Kemalia¡¯s console was the only one attached to that wall, and most of its lights were flashing red. The engine chamber beyond was shaped like the inside of a massive sphere, the walls of which were mostly large white tiles. There were six massive tunnels spaced evenly around the chamber¡¯s circumference. The engine control room in which they were standing was positioned between two of the tunnels. There was a large black-and-silver sphere suspended in the center of the chamber, pulsing with a faint blue glow. Six black pipes emerged from it like spokes on a wheel and ran down the center of each of the tunnels. ¡°Whoa, I designed this?!¡± exclaimed Jonas. Dr. Borg and Kemalia exchanged a glance. ¡°Uh, well, yes,¡± said the doctor. ¡°However, we¡¯ve made a few alterations to your original design, which is probably why you don¡¯t recognize it.¡± Jonas nodded soberly. ¡°A few alterations? That makes sense.¡± There was a series of catwalks encircling the engine chamber, including a station manned by two men wearing radiation suits. One of them nudged the other with his elbow, who looked up and waved enthusiastically towards the engine control room. Jonas waved back, then noticed that Kemalia had stepped up to the console beside him. It was her they were waving to. Jonas turned his wave into an unconvincing stretch and yawn. ¡°So what¡¯s the emergency?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯ll explain the situation, professor,¡± said Kemalia as she stepped up to the console. ¡°These engines use a proprietary version of your atomic conversion method¡ªthe same one used in your vambrace. However, we use the process to create propulsive plasma. Dr. Borg recently sent us a necessary software update from your lab. Unfortunately after we applied it, something went wrong and the injection module did an overwrite of your original formula and calculations for the conversion process. Without that formula the engine can¡¯t convert our fuel to plasma. We¡¯re dead in the water, metaphorically speaking!¡± Jonas chuckled, ¡°So my assistant, Dr. Borg, did some bad programming and now the space station won¡¯t move, eh? I know it¡¯s hard to find good help these days but I would hardly classify this as an emergency.¡± Dr. Borg bristled, ¡°I think you misunderstand the gravity of the situation, professor. The engines are not just for propulsion. They are also for lift. The Foundation is incapable of maintaining a stable orbit. Without working engines we will begin to fall back toward the Earth¡ªtowards New York City! A space station this size falling from this height would obliterate the city and everything else within a hundred mile radius. You have to restore your formula quickly or all your friends and loved ones in New York City will die!¡± ¡°All my friends and loved ones . . . I see,¡± said the professor. ¡°How long until the station¡¯s trajectory is terminal?¡± ¡°Less than five hours!¡± The professor nodded. ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll need something to eat, and a cold bottle of Atomicola. Oh, and something to write with.¡± Nearly an hour later, the glass wall was covered in lines of formulae and calculations. Jonas was standing on a step stool, squeezing a few extra numbers and letters into a corner with a felt-tip pen, and taking periodic sips of a bubbly blue liquid from a glass bottle shaped like a rocket. Kemalia and Dr. Borg watched from across the room. ¡°This is impressive, doctor, but what¡¯s with the pop drink?¡± she asked. ¡°He¡¯s had three of them in less than an hour,¡± she said. ¡°I suppose it gives him a boost of energy,¡± hypothesized Dr. Borg. And he was right. The professor had become a different man entirely compared to the hungover malcontent he had been upon his arrival. He was focused and articulate, energetic and youthful. His feet carried him from equation to equation as if he were performing choreography. His tired eyes and flushed face had been replaced by a clear vision and a look of determination. Put simply, he was in his element. ¡°The professor drinks soda when he¡¯s working and alcohol when he¡¯s depressed and, from what I¡¯ve seen, he¡¯s always either working or depressed. I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve seen the man drink a glass of water once, unless you count the occasional ice cube in his whiskey.¡± The professor climbed down from the step stool and stood back to examine the entirety of his work. He stroked his jaw thoughtfully as he looked over his calculations. Then he stepped forward and circled a short formula and two long equations. ¡°All done. If you plug that in, the conversion process should be restored and the engine should work.¡± Dr. Borg examined the three circles. The austere man did not smile exactly, but he did look satisfied. ¡°You¡¯ve done it, professor. This is brilliant work!¡± He looked at the watch on his wrist, ¡°And in less than an hour. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve underestimated you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not the first, nor will you be the last to ever underestimate me. Hell, I do it as a matter of practice,¡± replied Jonas. Kemalia entered the information into the console. A few moments later the engine was purring like a kitten. The engine had begun to project a strong, stable blue aura. ¡°It worked!¡± she exclaimed. Dr. Borg clapped the professor on the back, ¡°Good show! You¡¯ve saved the city . . . and the space station!¡± ¡°Thank you, Dr. Borg. There is one thing that¡¯s been bothering me, though,¡± said the professor. ¡°Yes, professor? What is it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a space station!¡± Chapter 3. The SS Foundation Something¡¯s amiss aboard the Space Station Foundation! Professor Jonas Jupiter finds himself aboard a space station he supposedly designed, despite having no memory of it. Is the professor¡¯s memory to blame or is Dr. Borg up to something? ¡°I don¡¯t have a space station!¡± said the professor. ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Dr. Borg. Kemalia and the rest of the crew looked from the professor to the doctor nervously. ¡°I mean what I say! You told me this was my space station, but I don¡¯t remember anything about a space station. I don¡¯t remember designing it. I don¡¯t remember building it. And a space station doesn¡¯t seem like the kind of thing a man just forgets!¡± ¡°B-but professor¡ªyou must have! This space station is your design, from top to bottom! Brain to bolt! What reason would we have to lie?¡± Jonas looked at the professor¡¯s face with his big round glasses and beady eyes. He seemed earnest enough. Kemalia looked concerned too¡ªand completely bewildered by the professor¡¯s outburst. Could I be wrong? Jonas asked himself. What state am I in that I completely forgot that I designed and built a space station? ¡°Look, professor,¡± continued Dr. Borg. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to tell you your own business in front of the crew, but you were drinking heavily throughout the entire process. Perhaps that has something to do with it? Alcohol has been your vice for many years but I believe you were at your worst during the design of the Foundation.¡± The professor hissed and winced. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s bad. You¡¯re probably telling the truth . . . can we perhaps . . . take a tour of the station? Maybe that¡¯ll jog my memory a bit. And if what you¡¯re saying is true, maybe it¡¯s time I get some help.¡± Dr. Borg and Kemalia shared a nervous look. ¡°Of course, professor. It¡¯s a research station, so we can¡¯t just barge into any room, but I¡¯ll show you what I can. Kemalia, you stay here and run every diagnostic available on the engine, then get us back on track. I¡¯ll show the professor around the station.¡± The two men walked together along the steel corridors of the Foundation. Soft white light came from the corners of the floor and ceiling. The doors leading off of the corridor occasionally slid open as they walked by, revealing an active and thriving station full of life and work. ¡°I must say I¡¯m just as surprised as you are, professor. The Foundation may be one of your greatest successes . . . however, there are certain factors that may explain how you could forget such a thing. For one, you designed the entire station over the course of only twelve days, maybe ten years ago.¡± Jonas nodded, ¡°That¡¯s pretty fast. Was it an independent project or a contract?¡± ¡°Contract. The government, of course¡ª¡± ¡°Of course, they haven¡¯t let me contract with anyone else since I refused to let them turn the vambrace into a combat weapon.¡± He touched the device on his forearm thoughtfully. Dr. Borg also looked at the device thoughtfully. ¡°Yes, well after you finished the design they paid you a remarkable sum and proceeded with the project on their own. You asked me to handle any consulting or follow up matters, you know, because you hate dealing with them so much. You didn¡¯t want anything to do with the build.¡± ¡°That all sounds believable. I hate the government.¡± It all made sense to Jonas so far. So why did it still feel so off? As they approached a turn in the corridor, a cat came trotting around the corner. It was as white as a ghost with blue eyes¡ªpupil, iris, and all. Even more peculiar than its eyes were its two tails, split right at the base, each moving independent of the other. The peculiar feline wound through Jonas¡¯s legs with its tails held high, pausing to rub its cheek against the professor¡¯s boot. Dr. Borg stared at the cat nervously. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. A young girl, perhaps eight or nine, appeared suddenly. She called out to the cat and demanded he come back, but he darted away. The girl followed and disappeared after him. Jonas turned to watch them go and said, ¡°Hm . . . that was odd.¡± ¡°Oh, the cat? It¡¯s, uh, simply the result of an experiment to measure the effects of a non-terrestrial environment on physical development. Cats mature quickly and thus make good subjects for the experiment.¡± ¡°Cat? Hm, no. I meant the girl, Doc. Why is there a little girl on a space station?¡± Sweat rolled down Dr. Borg¡¯s face, ¡°Oh, uh . . . she¡¯s also here for an experiment. We¡¯re measuring how family dynamics are affected by life at the edge of space.¡± Jonas shrugged, ¡°Good idea. If we¡¯re going to traverse the stars one day, we¡¯ll need to know this stuff. Any chance we can see the command deck?¡± Dr. Borg let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. ¡°Unfortunately, no. The project is in government hands. We don¡¯t have clearance to enter certain sections of the station.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°I see. Can you at least show me a map of the station so I can see if I still agree with my basic design?¡± ¡°Of course, professor.¡± They found a map suspended in a clear plastic case on a nearby wall. It looked like a simplified blueprint, with a white-line diagram of the station against a blue background. The Foundation was shaped like a capital ¡®A¡¯ but with two lines across its middle. The engine chamber was placed at the center of the lower connection between the two legs. The airlock through which they had boarded was on the left leg, just beneath the bridge. They were currently standing in the crew deck, highlighted red on the map. The crew deck occupied the entirety of the second, smaller link between the station¡¯s legs. Jonas pointed to the very bottom of the left leg. ¡°Say, doc. Any chance I can see the thruster housing? I bet it must have some pretty impressive stabilization systems in place.¡± ¡°I think that should be fine, professor,¡± said Dr. Borg. The thruster housing was a three-story tall room occupied almost entirely by the thruster itself. There were several levels of scaffolding in place to access different parts of the thruster for repair and maintenance. One of the black pipes Jonas had noticed on the engine earlier connected to this thruster. There wasn¡¯t much else there beyond several workstations and a row of lockers. Jonas looked around to make sure they were alone. No one else was in the room besides the professor and the doctor. He turned on the doctor. ¡°How long have you supposedly been my assistant, Dr. Borg?¡± asked Jonas. Dr. Borg looked Jonas in the eyes, then he sighed. ¡°So you¡¯ve figured it out?¡± ¡°A while ago, I think. Don¡¯t take it too hard, sport. I am a scientist. And I want to know what¡¯s going on here.¡± The doctor removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. ¡°I thought I might have a little more time. May I ask what gave it away?¡± ¡°That!¡± answered Jonas. He pointed at the titanic thruster in front of them, nearly ten times as tall as each of them. ¡°That is not a thruster meant for stabilizing orbit. Something that big is meant to go somewhere. There¡¯s a zero-percent chance this vessel was designed to be a space station. Just look at the shape! A true space station, especially one designed by me, would be much more modular¡ªless streamlined.¡± Dr. Borg looked up at the thruster. ¡°It¡¯s true that this ship was designed for long distance travel. Very long distance. But perhaps you designed a space station that was meant to move. An exploratory research vessel maybe.¡± ¡°I could have, but this isn¡¯t a research vessel. I¡¯m not sure what it is, but it¡¯s not for research.¡± ¡°What do you mean, professor?¡± ¡°The child. Even if this were a research vessel, no one is going to approve putting a child in space just to see what happens. Her bones could turn into sponge. She could grow extra baby teeth. Maybe she won¡¯t grow at all. There would be substantial testing and preparation before a child was allowed to live aboard a space station. At least more than two years worth.¡± Dr. Borg put his glasses in the pocket of his lab coat and folded his hands behind his back. ¡°I can explain everything. I would have explained from the very beginning if I had thought you would cooperate.¡± ¡°Cooperate? You didn¡¯t think I¡¯d cooperate, so you kidnapped me? How long have you been planning this?¡± ¡°Professor, please don¡¯t be too upset.¡± ¡°Answer the question, Borg.¡± Jonas¡¯s fists were clenched. ¡°I . . . was never truly your assistant. This was all part of the plan from the very first time I entered your laboratory . . . two weeks ago!¡± Jonas¡¯s mouth fell open. ¡°Two weeks? But I¡¯ve been working with Dr. Borg for years! What did you do with him?¡± Dr. Borg shook his head, ¡°You assume I am not myself. The truth is, that Dr. Borg¡ªas in your assistant, Dr. Borg¡ªnever existed. Implanted memories, unfortunately. I monitored you from a distance for several days, then implanted a memory modulator to make you believe I had been working with you for several years. I know it¡¯s unethical, but I promise I did what I did for good reason. You¡¯ll understand everything soon enough, I promise. I must ask you a question though, for the sake of my own vanity. It was only a matter of time before you figured out my little space station ruse, but how did you figure out I was not who I presented myself to be? What gave it away?¡± Jonas had become red in the face and his clenched fists were trembling, ¡°When you were explaining the problem with the engine you told me New York was in danger, along with ¡®all my friends and loved ones¡¯. That was my first clue that any of this was not right. If you had been my assistant for all the past several years, you would never have said that.¡± ¡°Why is that, professor?¡± ¡°Because, Dr. Borg: I don¡¯t have any friends!¡± Jonas punched the doctor straight in the face. The doctor collapsed to the floor, knocked unconscious by the professor¡¯s right hook. Jonas turned and bolted away. He burst through the door of the thruster housing and into a wide maintenance corridor. There was a worker standing there who was startled by Jonas racing towards him. He held out a hand to stop the sprinting professor. ¡°Hey! What are you-¡± Jonas shoved the man to the floor, ¡°Get out of the way! I¡¯m trying to escape!¡± Jonas ran as fast as he could down the corridor. He had picked the thruster housing specifically because it was close to the airlock and would likely be somewhat isolated. A few people in the ship¡¯s corridor watched him run with wide eyes. Moments later he smashed the button to open the airlock. Once he was inside he closed the hatch and snatched the nearest suit and helmet off the wall. He quickly suited up and sealed the helmet. He decided to skip the vacuum check. There was a good chance he was being watched by the ship¡¯s security systems. If so, he had only as much time as it took the ship¡¯s security to reach the airlock. The airlock would take roughly thirty-minutes to depressurize. He didn¡¯t have that kind of time. Did he need it? If the catapod was still pressurized, then the airlock didn¡¯t need to be depressurized. They would have the same atmosphere. But, and it was a major but, if the airlock was pressurized and the catapod was a vacuum, then the sudden displacement of air could damage or even destroy the catapod, and possibly kill Jonas in the process. He tried to remember back to the launch process but he had been pretty hungover. Then it came back to him. The amount of time between sealing our helmets and launching was too short! They couldn¡¯t have depressurized the catapod! ¡°A-ha!¡± he shouted as he smashed the button that opened the outer door. ¡°Hurk!!¡± he grunted as he was violently blown into space. He was so occupied with figuring out whether or not the catapod was pressurized that he hadn¡¯t stopped to consider that the catapod might not be there at all. As he was tumbling through space, he suddenly saw the Earth floating in the deep black field of space, small, blue, and half a million miles away. Chapter 4. Man Overboard Man overboard! In his hurry to escape the conniving Dr. Borg¡¯s kidnapping plot, Professor Jonas Jupiter has accidentally ejected himself into space . . . will he be saved before it¡¯s too late? Jonas felt a hard yank at his waist. He felt with his hands and found a thick tether attached to his spacesuit. Had someone arrived just in time and saved his life by quickly attaching the safety tether? Or was it a safety device, set to automatically engage in the case of a sudden ejection from the airlock? It was the latter. He floated awhile, dragged alongside the ship for what felt like an hour before someone hailed him on the commlink in his helmet. ¡°Professor?¡± It was Dr. Borg. ¡°Let me in,¡± demanded Jonas. ¡°Let me in!¡± ¡°I believe we should talk first, while you¡¯re not in a position to do anything drastic.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Like punching me in the face.¡± ¡°You had that coming, guy. You can¡¯t mess with a man¡¯s memories, then kidnap him and expect to not get punched in the face.¡± ¡°I understand how you must feel, but I would like to make my case while I have a captive audience.¡± Jonas was acutely aware that he was floating in an infinitely vast void, billions and trillions of miles deep, moving thousands of miles per second, attached to the Foundation by nothing more than a particularly strong rope. Seeing the stars like this gave Jonas a terribly queasy sense of scale. ¡°Just say what you want to say, Borg, and make it quick. I¡¯d rather not be out here any longer.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± said Dr. Borg, ¡°Professor, my people and I are refugees. In this galaxy, although your people have not reached far enough to know this, there are hundreds of advanced civilizations, traversing the stars, engaging in trade and conflict. Several of these civilizations formed a Galactic Union in order to establish dominance over the others. They spread their false utopia through manipulation and bribery. They tout access to a vast economy and myriad technological advancements. More civilizations fall for this seduction every year. ¡°They began courting my people nearly twenty years ago. If it were an outright military conflict I know my people would fight to the last man, but these Union tyrants use manipulative means to convince their victims that they want to join the Union of their own free will, telling tales of improved life and progress through the sharing of technology and resources and commerce. ¡°Myself and my companions were the only ones able to see through these tactics. We tried to fight the tyrants peaceful, through principles and dialogue . . . but it was too late. Our own people had already turned against us. ¡°We attempted a truce and a congenial split. We even established a colony on another world but our government would not acknowledge our independence. They demanded we fall in line. When we refused and begged for peace they attacked. Full destruction of their fellow people. They turned our new home into glass and this ship and all my companions on it are the only survivors. In our search for a safe hiding place we ended up near your planet, Earth.¡± ¡°Luck you. It¡¯s the greatest planet in the world,¡± said Jonas, proudly. ¡°It¡¯s a quiet, unadvanced planet in a mostly dark region of the galaxy surrounded by other simple civilizations not advanced enough to be in the Union. It¡¯s ¡®rural¡¯ in other words. Backwards even.¡± ¡°Now listen, you!¡± interrupted Jonas. Borg ignored him. ¡°Our ship was hobbled. Our engines barely worked. I studied Earth¡¯s technology and science to see if there were any useful resources and I happened across your discovery of the atomic conversation process, which is by far the most advanced thing humanity has ever produced. A fluke, most certainly. To think¡ªyou used it to make a fancy bracelet! I hatched my plan to get you on board and goad you into giving us your incredible formula. You really are a diamond in the rough, Jonas Jupiter. Unpolished and uncut, but a diamond nonetheless. Although we had to coerce it from you, your process will allow us to continue our journey for a new home safely, unhindered by limited resources. I believe the ends justify the means. You have saved my people.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Fine. I hate the government as much as the next guy, but couldn¡¯t you have sent me back to Earth once I gave you the formula? Why drag me along?¡± asked Jonas. He was gripping the tether with both hands now. He didn¡¯t feel like he was moving thousands of miles per second, but just knowing he was¡ªand with nothing but thin layers of fabric, metal, and glass between him and the void¡ªwas making his stomach churn. ¡°Perhaps. That was the original plan, but after observing your intemperate and licentious lifestyle, I worried. What if your calculations were off, or your formula was incomplete? What if it was not fully compatible with our engines or power systems? I decided it was safer for my people to keep you on board in case something went awry. ¡°You affirmed my decision with something you said just before you punched me, Jonas. It was something about not having any friends or loved ones, I think. You¡¯re lonely, aren¡¯t you? There¡¯s no one on Earth waiting, yearning for your return, desperate to find you. There¡¯s nothing for you on Earth. Your laboratory is failing. Your money is dwindling. You haven¡¯t made a major discovery or invention in years. I¡¯m offering you a new life, Jonas. Be the first human to explore the stars. Be the hero my people need-¡± ¡°Okay, yes. Yes to everything, just please bring me inside now,¡± said Jonas. ¡°Fantastic! Have I convinced you, Jonas? Was it my people¡¯s plight that won you over? Or perhaps my blunt indictment of your status on Earth?¡± asked Borg. ¡°No, doc. There¡¯s another ship out here suddenly. So yeah, I¡¯ll do whatever you want. Just bring me inside, please!¡± ¡°A ship? Damn!¡± exclaimed the doctor. Another ship had appeared suddenly in Jonas¡¯s view. It looked as if it was emerging slowly through the void, but he knew that was an effect of it coming straight on. It was probably moving very fast. It looked like a predator. Many years ago, Jonas had gone spearfishing off a coastal reef. There had been a heavy thunderstorm the night before so the seabed was all churned up and visibility was fairly low. Jonas had just scored a hit on a giant trevally. The fish got away but there was blood in the water. A great white appeared almost immediately. It began as a growing gray shadow in the dark blue background of the ocean. By the time he saw the white underbelly and the gaping mouth it was only a few meters away. Luckily, it swam right past him, more interested in the bleeding fish than the dumbstruck diver. The whole thing was over in three seconds, from shadow to shark and back. This new ship emerged from the starfield like a predator, but Jonas knew it was not going to just swim past. It was similar in design to the Foundation, shaped like an ¡®A¡¯ but with three lines across its center instead of the Foundation¡¯s two. The overall design was more elegant with streamlined edges and a bow that was every bit as pointed as a shark¡¯s snout. Everything about the ship signaled danger. Jonas felt the tether tug on him as he was winched back inside the ship. It pulled him so fast that when he landed he bounced off the floor of the airlock, then the ceiling. He might have bounced right back out if the outer hatch had not closed behind him. ¡°Jonas,¡± said Borg to the professor¡¯s comms link, ¡°That ship is a warship from our world. They¡¯ve come to either destroy or capture us. We¡¯re going to try to outrun them, using your technology. I¡¯m leaving one of our security officers here. In five minutes, the airlock will be re-pressurized and you¡¯ll be able to enter the ship. The security officer will then escort you to the engine control room to assist Kemalia in case any issues arise.¡± Jonas found himself on his hands and knees. His whole body ached. He felt as though he could barely hold himself up, and his head was spinning like a top. ¡°Doc, I don¡¯t feel so good,¡± he said. ¡°Of course,¡± said Dr. Borg, ¡°You probably have decompression sickness. Lay on your side and try to stay conscious.¡± He then began speaking quickly to the security officer beside him. ¡°Doc . . . I don¡¯t . . . feel . . . good,¡± moaned Jonas. Blackness creeped in around the edge of his vision. Then everything was dark. Jonas awoke to the sensation of being jostled. He was being carried in someone¡¯s arms, like a child being carried to bed. He opened his eyes and looked up into the face of the tall, strong, handsome man carrying him. ¡°Who are you?¡± asked Jonas, groggily. The man did not answer until he set the professor down on the floor of the engine control room. ¡°My name is Mango. I gave you an injection for your decompression sickness. Your joints may be sore for a while but you will be fine.¡± The room was awash in red light. An alarm was sounding in steady intervals. Jonas propped himself up on his aching elbows. The engineering staff were working frantically and shouting information to each other. Kemalia was there too, trying to rein in the chaos. ¡°Professor? Please, is there anyway to accelerate the conversion process??¡± She sounded anxious. ¡°Accelerate?¡± he asked dumbly. A tremor ran through the whole ship. The vibration made Jonas¡¯s body ache all over. ¡°Professor! Please! Is there anyway to make it faster? Professor?! We have to go faster!¡± Kemalia was on the verge of panic. ¡°No. The process is still bound by the laws of physics. It can only go so fast-¡± The ship began to shake tremendously. There was a horrible, inhuman shrieking sound¡ªthe sound of several tons of metal in distress¡ªthen the whole room was jerked violently. Jonas tumbled across the floor and into a console. When he looked up, he saw that they were no longer attached to the engine chamber. In fact, that entire wall had disappeared. He saw a flash of pale green sky and a streak of white clouds and heard the deafening roar of wind rushing past. The engine control room was careening wildly through the sky and then it suddenly wasn¡¯t and Jonas was unconscious once more. Chapter 5. How to Survive an Emergency From the Officer Training Manual: Danger abounds in space! Should you encounter an emergency, this handy step-by-step guide will ensure you and your crew survive. Step 1: Remove yourself from immediate danger and check your medical condition. Jonas opened his eyes beneath a pale green sky filled with plumes of black smoke. He sat up and winced. There was a brief twinge of pain in his left side. He waited for it to pass, then looked around to get his bearings. He was on a beach, surrounded by metal wreckage. Some kind of tank sat nearby covered in bright red warning symbols. Bluish smoke was spewing from a puncture in the tank¡¯s nozzle. Jonas stood and rolled the smoking tank away with his foot. Pain flared in his left side again as he kicked sand towards it. Probably nothing to worry about, thought Jonas as the pain receded. Kemalia opened her eyes beneath a ceiling of flames and black smoke. She tried to push herself up and cried out at the pain in her left arm. She was still in the engine control room. It had crumpled on impact and there were several electric fires raging around her. She looked for an exit. The door had mostly collapsed but there was a sliver of light from a misshapen opening at its base. If she didn¡¯t move fast she would asphyxiate from the smoke. She crawled on her hands and knees towards the exit. She tried to let her left arm hang naturally without putting weight on it, but still felt the occasionally spark of pain as she moved. It was a difficult but short distance to the door. As she crawled she could hear the terrifyingly sharp crackle of electricity behind her. Within moments she was pushing herself out of the disfigured opening at the base of the door. She was careful to avoid the jagged edges. Once she was out of what used to be the engine control room she trotted a short distance away and collapsed in the sand. Every part of her wanted to lay in the sand and not move, but she pushed through her exhaustion and gave herself a short medical examination. Aside from a few small cuts and bruises, her only significant injury was a dislocated shoulder. Step 2: Observe your surroundings and assess your situation. Jonas was standing on the long white beach of a gray-blue sea. Small waves rolled towards the beach and lapped the sand gently. He saw a flock of large leathery things flying in the distance, dive-bombing the water for food. Behind him was the edge of a tropical jungle. There was wreckage strewn all along the beach, a lot of debris but not nearly enough for a whole ship. Jonas thought to himself, where is the Foundation? Kemalia looked up at the Foundation¡ªor what remained of it¡ªfloating huge and obvious in the upper atmosphere. It looked similar to the moon on a clear bright day, visible but faint, as though it was being viewed through a silk screen. The ship was in rough shape. The entire lower left leg was missing, along with several other pieces. Its broken edges were shredded like frayed cord. A cloud of debris glinted around it, shimmering like glitter. Well, it¡¯s not the worst situation ever, thought Jonas. I¡¯m on a beautiful beach. The water looks nice. The sky is pretty, and there¡¯s a jungle behind me just begging for a romp. Perhaps I¡¯ll find some food or water. The situation is pretty grim, thought Kemalia. I¡¯m stranded on alien beach, with no food or potable water. That ocean might be highly acidic. The air I¡¯m breathing might be toxic. There¡¯s a jungle at the edge of the beach, probably filled with dangerous flora and fauna. Step 3: Seek out and assist other survivors. Jonas cupped his hands around his mouth. ¡°Hello?!¡± he shouted. He looked around to his left and saw nothing but sand, metal, and smoke. ¡°Helloooo?!¡± he shouted again. He looked to his right and saw more of the same. No motion. No one running toward the sound of his voice. The wreckage stretched out pretty far in that direction. He thought about walking along the beach, but his head hurt a little and he felt pretty tired. A few moments later he was snoring softly in the warm sand. Nearly an hour later, Kemalia had searched most of the beach. She had found only dead bodies, all crewmen she had known. In fact all of the engine control room crew were accounted for in the macabre mannerIf you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. She had almost given up on the search when she saw a white shape lying prone on the beach. Another body. She thought to herself, I can¡¯t handle seeing another dead friend. I just can¡¯t! Then the body rolled over onto its back. They were alive, whoever it was! As she approached, she recognized Jonas lying on his back. He had stripped out of his exosuit, down to his lab coat. She gasped and ran to him. ¡°Professor!¡± No response. She lay her fingers across his left clavicle. In her species a strong blood vessel ran there, but of course in Jonas, she felt nothing. She put her ear just above his nose and mouth, and felt his breath, slow and steady. She had to act fast to save his life. She straightened her right arm (her dislocated left arm was useless or she would have used both) and rested her fist on the professor¡¯s abdomen, just below his ribcage. Then she reared up and dropped all of her weight through her stiffened arm, right into his stomach. ¡°Hlegh!!!¡± Jonas¡¯s eyes popped open and he groaned. ¡°What the hell?!¡± he exclaimed, clutching his stomach. ¡°You were unconscious! Are you okay?¡± asked Kemalia. ¡°I was taking a nap!¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t feel your ventral pulse so I assumed your primary heart had stopped.¡± ¡°Primary heart? I¡¯ve only got the one.¡± Her brow furrowed, ¡°Only one?¡± then she covered her mouth with her hand, ¡°Of course! Oh my! I¡¯m so sorry, professor! How could I forget our anatomy is different?! Will you be okay? Did I damage anything?¡± Jonas sat up and winced, clutching his left side, ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°Professor, please lie down and let me inspect you for injuries,¡± she said firmly. ¡°Hm . . . okay. It¡¯s been a while since a pretty girl wanted to look me over,¡± he said as he lay back down in the sand. ¡°Oh, professor!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°This is no time for jokes. You could have a serious injury! Please be still while I give you a medical check!¡± One brief medical check later, Kemalia sat back on her heels and helped the professor up to a sitting position. ¡°What¡¯s the word, doc?¡± said Jonas. Kemalia shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor, professor,¡± she said. ¡°What¡¯s a doctorprofessor?¡± She stared at him, mildly perturbed. ¡°Bad joke. Sorry,¡± he said. She sighed. ¡°You have a mild concussion and a fractured rib. The rib is in place, just cracked, so don¡¯t do anything excessively physical and it should heal on its own.¡± He noticed then that her left arm was dangling limply at her side. ¡°What happened to your arm?¡± he asked. ¡°Dislocated and I don¡¯t think I can fix it by myself. Do you mind?¡± she asked. He nodded and without warning took her left wrist in his right hand, braced her chest with his left hand, and yanked. Her shoulder slipped back into its socket and she yelped in pain. ¡°Oh, professor . . . thank you.¡± ¡°Of course, Kimmy.¡± He put a hand on her non-injured shoulder and their eyes met. She¡¯s even prettier than I first noticed, he thought. Despite being a different species, she looked like any human girl might, with soft features and eyes as green as emeralds. Her tight bun had come loose in the chaos and a few locks hung freely about her face. ¡°I¡¯m glad there¡¯s another survivor, even if it¡¯s just the two of us,¡± he said. She held his gaze for a moment with an indecipherable expression before she looking away. ¡°Is it really just us, you think?¡± she said. ¡°Hm, perhaps.¡± said Jonas. ¡°So, what now?¡± he wondered aloud. Step 4: Find help. If help is not available find shelter. The professor stroked his stubbly chin. ¡°If anyone else survived the crash then they¡¯re probably not in much better shape than we are. Perhaps we should find the Foundation. Hm, if we only knew where it was...¡± Kemalia pointed up at the sky just behind Jonas¡¯s head, where the Foundation floated in orbit. ¡°A-ha! Found it! Good work, Kimmy,¡± said Jonas. ¡°It¡¯s not going to do us much good up there, though. Right . . . perhaps we should find shelter and . . . hunker down for the night.¡± He tried to establish eye contact as he spoke, but Kemalia was looking forlornly at the Foundation. ¡°Good idea, professor. We can work out how to contact the Foundation if anyone¡¯s still up there. And we should keep searching for survivors. It looks like more sections of the ship- Oh, my! Professor! Look!¡± Jonas turned around to see a living nightmare emerge from the waves behind them. At first glance, it resembled an alligator with a turtle shell, but it was several times as large. Its snout was long, wide, and full of jagged teeth. Its eyes were black and bulbous. Its blue-gray skin was leathery and scaled. It crawled toward them on stout legs ending in long, webbed claws. The beast was at least ten-meters long from head to tail. Kemalia shrieked. The sea monster made a rapid clicking sound from deep in its throat, then it lunged toward them. ¡°Run! To the jungle!¡± shouted Jonas. He sprinted for the trees without waiting for Kemalia. She ran after him with the sea monster hot on her heels. Chapter 6. It Came From Beneath the Waves Jonas and Kemalia are the only survivors from the beach. They are lost and separated in a dangerous jungle, pursued by a terrible sea monster. who knows what new dangers they may face? Jonas Jupiter, scientist and urbanite, had never been more horrified in his life. He had spent the last twenty years in sterilized labs, relatively clean bars, and the occasional elite gala so he could pander to wealthy donors and board members. That life was a far cry from this nightmare jungle on a foreign world. He was lost, alone, exhausted and with every step he discovered some new, alien horror. First it was the bulbous, mushroom-like sacs of fluid that exploded with a wet pop as he stepped on them. They sprouted from the ground seemingly at random, well camouflaged by the layer of detritus on the ground. Then there were the countless hanging vines covered in leaves as sticky as glue. They stuck to him as he brushed past, so that Jonas himself had begun to look like a tree. Something thick and legless had wriggled across his path several times like a fat, furry snake. The sounds of the jungle were completely alien as well. It was filled with chittering, popping, bubbling, and the occasional scream that almost sounded human. At one point he had heard an birdsong that could only be described as a metallic warbling, like a thin sheet of aluminum being shook. Acting as a static background to the horrifying symphony was an eerie but beautiful chorus that sounded like dozens of men singing an extended chord in falsetto. Jonas was pretty sure it was coming from beetles. He had paused to lean against a tree for a moment and had accidentally crushed an unnoticed beetle. Coincidentally, the closest sounding voice had stopped. He was just as uncomfortable physically as he was mentally. He was sweating a lot, but he chalked that up to being out of shape. However, he was also shaking a little, which brought to mind the symptoms of alcohol withdrawal. Or nerves, he thought. Probably just nerves. Just then, the professor felt something rub against his legs. He was almost afraid to look down, worried he might discover some new, disgusting alien lifeform. When he did look down, he saw a white cat with two perky tails winding around his legs. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you! Hello . . . cat.¡± Jonas knelt down to pet its back and scratch its neck gently. He could feel it purring heavily. ¡°We¡¯re up to three survivors, I guess, although I have no idea where the girl got to. Say, you don¡¯t know how hunt do you, little guy? I sure could use some food.¡± The cat meowed then trotted away. ¡°Hey!¡± Jonas chased after the feline, but in just a few steps it had disappeared into the dense foliage. He looked around wildly, then heard a meow above him. The cat was perched on a branch of a tree covered in leafy bulbs. The cat reached down and batted at one of the bulbs until it fell. Jonas caught it in his hands. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he said. It felt solid beneath its leafy sheath, like wood. He peeled back the layer of leaves and uncovered something that looked a lot like a football-shaped coconut. He pressed a button on his vambrace, the unique device he wore on his right wrist, and a six-inch knife blade appeared. He called it the bayonet. He used the bayonet to saw off the top of the alien fruit, revealing a frothy, blue-white liquid inside. He gave it a light sniff. It smelled sweet but with a slightly acrid undertone, almost like a strong cocktail. Then, despite being a scientist, he took a sip of the completely unknown, untested liquid. His eyes lit up and he smiled at the cat, who was crouched on the branch, swishing its tails nonchalantly back and forth. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s the stuff! You¡¯re pretty clever, huh? I think I¡¯ll call you Coconut.¡± While Jonas was discovering jungle delicacies with his new friend, Coconut, Kemalia was running through the jungle as fast as she dared. She couldn¡¯t risk injuring herself on the unfamiliar terrain but the persistent and horrific sea monster was always close behind. She could hear it pushing through the foliage, pausing only to emit its low, buzzy clicking sound. Was it using echolocation to track her? The hunt had gone on for over an hour. I can¡¯t run forever! I have to shake this thing, she thought. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. She decided to climb as high as she could and wait for the monster to pass her by, then slip away so she could reunite with Jonas, who¡ªso far¡ªwas the only other confirmed survivor. If we really are the last two, we may be each other¡¯s only chance for survival. In a few agile moments, Kemalia found herself in the upper branches of a nearby tree. The sea monster appeared soon after. It crawled through the foliage like a tank, crushing everything in its path. It stopped just beneath Kemalia¡¯s tree. The beast swiveled its wide, alligator-like head back and forth. She could hear it sniffing after her scent. From above she could see the top of its turtle-like shell and the swirl of ridges that decorated it. Its fat tail was lined with blunt spines. It seemed to have lost her trail and turned to investigate a different direction. When it did, its massive tail severed the trunk of a nearby tree that was almost the same size as Kemalia¡¯s. She heard the tree give way with a loud crack and watched it fall with a mighty crash. She let out a little shriek of surprise then covered her mouth, but it was too late. The monster jerked back in her direction. It looked up as much as it could but its thick neck and shell blocked it from looking straight up at her. It instead sniffed the trunk of the tree, then chuffed. It had found her hiding place. The thing turned sideways and rammed the edge of its shell into the trunk of the tree like a dull axe. Kemalia shrieked. Another hit and the tree was felled. Kemalia clutched the trunk of the tree as hard as she could, hoping the branches would stay strong and keep the trunk from flattening her against the ground. Her whole world tilted wildly, then she was tumbling on the jungle floor. She expected the monster to lurch towards as she caught her breath. It stayed in place, swaying its head back and forth, looking vaguely in her direction. What she did not know was that the creature, called a gargura by the ¡®locals¡¯, had evolved to hunt most of its prey underwater. Its eyes were almost useless, only able to see general shapes in grayscale. It usually lunged at whatever was moving the most. Its echolocation made it a deadly stalker underwater. On land, its nose was its best tool. Kemalia on her hands and knees stared into the eyes of the gargura and the beast stared back dimly. She imagined it sizing her up, predicting her next move so it could snatch her up in its jaws before she escaped. In actuality, the gargura was trying to figure out if any of the gray shapes in front of it were edible. ¡°Kimmy?!¡± Jonas¡¯s voice came from somewhere nearby. ¡°Hellooo? Kimmy?!¡± ¡°Professor! I¡¯m here! I¡¯m here!¡± There was a commotion nearby. ¡°Professor, the monster is here!¡± The professor fought his way through a stubborn fern and stumbled into the clearing. Coconut the cat was on his shoulder, clinging tightly to the unstable man. He held two of the alien fruits in his hands. Both of them were half empty. ¡°Kimmy! Kimmy, I founded you. Whyareyouontheground?¡± he mumbled. Coconut hissed at the gargura and jumped off Jonas¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Where ya goin¡¯? Come back, kitty! Kittykittykittykitty¡ª¡± ¡°Professor, behind you!¡± she pointed at the gargura. Jonas turned and looked at the monster but didn¡¯t seem to register it for a second. He blinked and squinted at the monster. ¡°Shit!¡± He chucked one of the coconuts as hard as he could at the beast. It bounced off its shell and rolled away. The gargura turned toward Jonas with its mouth open, revealing rows of uneven, jagged teeth. It lunged at him. ¡°Aaaahhh!¡± Jonas yelled as he rolled¡ªfell, really¡ªout of the beast¡¯s reach. ¡°What do we do?¡± yelled Kemalia. ¡°¡®mgonkillit!¡± Jonas pressed a button on his vambrace and the bayonet appeared. He lunged toward the beast. The only reason he wasn¡¯t instantly devoured was because Kemalia, worried for Jonas and shocked by his stupidity, screamed again. The practically-blind gargura turned toward the sound, leaving Jonas an opening to scramble up its shell and straddle its thick neck. The beast thrashed its head back and forth but Jonas was safely out of reach. He stabbed it in the neck at the base of its skull, expecting the creature to die instantly or perhaps run for its life. Instead, it began to thrash even harder and Jonas was tossed off. He rolled a few meters, then scrambled across the remaining distance to Kemalia. ¡°Oh, professor! I thought you were a goner!¡± ¡°Oh, hey you.¡± he said to her. Her nose wrinkled, ¡°You reek of alcohol! Are you drunk?!¡± ¡°What? No. It¡¯s the coconuts.¡± ¡°Coconut?¡± she asked. ¡°My cat?¡± he answered. ¡°Ugh. Professor, we have to run again. Can you manage it?¡± she asked. Before he could answer a third voice rang out, ¡°Ho there!¡± A tall man with a blonde hair, broad shoulders, and a handsome face leaped out of the foliage and tuck-rolled into position beneath the gargura¡¯s left flank. He gripped the bottom lip of its shell with both hands and pushed up as hard as he could. Within seconds the beasts was on its back. Its legs wiggled in the air, helpless. The man pulled a coil of sticky vine from his shoulder and suddenly he was on the beast like a cowboy at work in the corral. He lassoed the vine twice around the beast¡¯s snout, then pulled it tight and knotted it. The gargura, trapped on its back and muzzled, had been completely and totally wrangled. The hero turned to Jonas and Kemalia and nodded. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Jonas pumped his fists in the air triumphantly and shouted, ¡°Mango!¡± Chapter 7. Beach Party Jonas, Kemalia, and Mango are the only survivors from the crash site at the beach. They must find high ground in order to send a message to the Foundation and any other survivors. ¡°Mango, you saved us!¡± exclaimed Kemalia. ¡°You beautiful sonofabitch,¡± mumbled Jonas. Mango nodded, ¡°I¡¯m glad there are other survivors. I came to on the beach but didn¡¯t have a chance to seek out other survivors. I was almost immediately attacked by a large predator. It chased me into the jungle.¡± Jonas pointed at the wrangled gargura, ¡°That thing?¡± ¡°No. It was some kind of feline.¡± ¡°Was it Coconut?¡± asked Jonas. Mango looked perplexed, ¡°Maybe. I¡¯m not familiar with this world¡¯s wildlife. It stalked me through the jungle for hours. In fact, I was setting a trap for it when I heard you two. We probably shouldn¡¯t linger here too long in case it finds us.¡± ¡°While I was up in the tree, I saw a second crash site. Have you been in contact with anyone from that crash? Or anyone from the Foundation at all?¡± said Kemalia. Mango shook his head, ¡°No. My comms were broken in the crash.¡± Kemalia twisted a knob back and forth on her wristband. It emitted a high-pitched, oscillating whistle interrupted by occasional bursts of static. ¡°My radio works but I can¡¯t tune it to anything. There¡¯s just too much interference to get a strong signal. I saw a bluff about ten kilometers north. I think we should try to tag the Foundation before we head to the other crash site.¡± ¡°Good plan, officer. We¡¯ll follow your lead¡ªwhere¡¯s the human?¡± They both looked around. ¡°Coconuuuuut!¡± yelled Jonas from somewhere nearby. Mango found the professor and shook him, ¡°Please quiet down, professor. Danger lurks all around us. Don¡¯t go out of your way to summon it.¡± Mango sniffed a little and said, ¡°Are you inebriated?¡± ¡°Yeah, but I gotta find my cat.¡± ¡°The cat will probably find us. We need to head for high ground and try to tag the Foundation on radio.¡± Soon after, the party was trekking through the jungle and Jonas had found another alien coconut tree. Being drunk kept his mind off the more disgusting elements of their environment. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you drank that stuff. You¡¯re a scientist? You should know better!¡± said Kemalia. ¡°I gave it the smell test . . . and it passed with flying colors!¡± said Jonas. He spotted a singing beetle and tried to hum along with it. ¡°You¡¯re a scientist!¡± she exclaimed. Jonas shrugged and took another sip. He started thinking about the various cocktails he could make with his new discovery. Pina colada. Tom and Jerry. Pineapple Cream. White Russian¡ªno, a Blue Russian. The professor was especially tickled by that idea and chuckled until he felt something light and furry land on his shoulder. ¡°Coconut!¡± he exclaimed, but when he turned to look he did not see Coconut. A small marsupial had landed on its shoulder. It had gray fur, a narrow-pointed snout, big round ears, and black stripes across its back. A fat pouch of bare-skin hung beneath its chin, deflated and dangling like a chicken¡¯s wattle. ¡°Argh!!¡± yelled Jonas as he jerked away.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The startled creature clung to his shoulder. Its neck pouch swelled up and the creature let loose an ear-shattering yowl that brought Jonas to his knees. The whole right side of his head throbbed, originating from a sharp pain in his ear. He doubled over and the marsupial hopped off his shoulder, then there was a flash of white fur. After a few moments the pain receded and Jonas opened his eyes to see Coconut sitting in front of him, licking blood off its paws. Kemalia and Mango were staring at him, opening and closing their mouths silently. Jonas realized they were talking, but the ringing in his ear was drowning everything else out. ¡°I¡¯m okay, but I can¡¯t hear anything,¡± said Jonas. The others shared a look of annoyance, then turned and walked away without saying anything, probably. Soon after, they were standing at the foot of the bluff Kemalia had seen. It was a vertical rock wall, maybe sixty meters high with patches of net-like moss draped across its face. Mango and Kemalia circled the bluff to find a way up. Meanwhile, Jonas sat and leaned against the rocky wall and drank another fermented coconut while the cat napped in a sunny spot. Eventually the other two returned to where the professor was sitting. ¡°It looks like we¡¯ll have to climb,¡± said Mango. ¡°I am way too drunk for that,¡± said Jonas. So for the second time in as many days, Jonas found himself being carried by Mango. This time he was strapped to Mango¡¯s back while he and Kemalia ascended the bluff, belaying sticky rope along the way. Man, this guy is strong, thought Jonas. It was a good reminder that the Foundation¡¯s crew were not human. Jonas realized he didn¡¯t even know what species they were. The attack on the Foundation had happened before Jonas had a chance to ask. Were they all so strong, or was Mango unique? The guy was hauling a grown man and a cat on his back while climbing a vertical bluff without complaint. ¡°Mango, how are you so strong?¡± asked Jonas, a little too loudly for how close they were. ¡°I am only strong compared to you, professor. I am the weakest of my siblings,¡± said Mango as hauled himself up with one hand. A horrifying yowl came from nearby. Coconut panicked in Jonas¡¯s arms. ¡°Hey!¡± The cat twisted away, all claws, and scurried the rest of the way up the bluff on his own. ¡°What was that all about?¡± said Jonas. ¡°And why am I carrying you if you can climb, you jerk?!¡± Kemalia and Mango exchanged a concerned glance. ¡°Let¡¯s be quick about this,¡± he said. They pulled themselves over the edge quickly. Kemalia pressed the comms button on her suit¡¯s collar and said, ¡°Chief Engineering Officer Kemalia to the Foundation. Please respond.¡± Seconds passed without a response. She repeated the call. More seconds passed. Finally a voice answered, ¡°Dr. Korl Borg responding. Is that really you, Kemalia?¡± ¡°Doctor! You¡¯re alive! We weren¡¯t sure if anyone else survived. Are you on board?¡± The answer came fuzzy and distorted, ¡°There is no one left on the Foundation. It¡¯s derelict. I assumed the only survivors are those with me. Is anyone else with you?¡± ¡°Yes, Mango and the professor are both with me. We are the only survivors from the beach. Are the survivors with you from the crash site in the jungle?¡± ¡°The human survived?!¡± There followed a long pause. ¡°Incredible. That is very auspicious news. Yes, my party is made up of survivors from the jungle crash site. I did not realize there was a beach crash site or we would have searched for you.¡± ¡°Did you hear that? Dr. Borg survived!¡± said Kemalia to Jonas. ¡°What? Karl¡¯s alive?¡± He tugged at his ear and wiggled his jaw. Kemalia rolled her eyes. ¡°Dr. Borg, where are you? Where are we?¡± ¡°This planet is named Bogidogudu. It¡¯s an uncharted port where anti-union pirate crews can gather safely. It¡¯s a dangerous, lawless place, but I have a contact here who can help us. The jungle party is waiting at a designated location at the edge of the jungle just outside of the port. I¡¯m meeting up with my contact inside the port. Rendezvous with the jungle party and wait for my return. I¡¯ll hopefully have good news.¡± After a sharing of coordinates and ETAs the beach party was preparing to rappel back down the bluff. They suddenly heard another horrible yowl, much closer than the first. It was the kind of sound that makes a person¡¯s skin tighten and their hair stand on end. ¡°Did you guys hear that?¡± said Jonas. ¡°Was that Coconut?¡± ¡°That was not Coconut. We need to go. Now.¡± said Mango. Kemalia had already begun her descent down the cliff-face. ¡°Coconut! Coconuuuut!¡± yelled Jonas as loud as he could. ¡°Professor! Cut that out!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got to find Coconut! He saved-¡± The beast that appeared was feline, but it was definitely not Coconut. Two meters long, it was lithe and covered in dark green fur, with even darker green spots. It had two thickly muscled hind legs ending in powerful paws with curved claws. It had a single front leg in the center of its chest, supported by a dense set of torso muscles. The creature¡¯s face was tiger-like, with shaggy jaws and white-line patterns to camouflage its face from its prey. It was crouched low, eye to eye with Jonas, ready to pounce. The big cat took a menacing step forward, every muscle in its body coiled. ¡°You¡¯re not Coconut!¡± The creature leapt.