Trevor and Lord Essien were locked in a staring contest atop the throne platform. Essien loomed over him while tapping her thigh with the pistol. Trevor glared up from the throne with hands folded into the steeple of an overzealous comic book villain. He rapped his fingertips, trying to convey some weighted contemplation, but came across more like a campy cosplayer. The Dimathien minions continued to nurse their collective boredom under the watchful gazes of Jai and the Varokin goons.
“Two scooters, a hover cart, and all the coffee makers.”
Essien chuckled and shook her head, as if trying to talk tech to a Luddite. “What part of all do you not understand?” She started to raise the pistol.
“Wait! Wait.” Trevor sighed and slumped in the throne. “You have to give me something. Otherwise, the flock will not respect my authority.”
“And controlling the coffee makers will inspire awe?”
Trevor gnawed at his cheek. “I can spin it.”
“For that matter, why the coffee makers? I was under the impression that you could not partake.”
“This is religion, not checkers. We seek to control the will and actions of others.”
Essien leaned forward and gripped the armrests, putting them face to face. Her silvery eyes pierced him with a deep disdain. “And that is why you will never beat someone like me. I never seek control, only advantage.”
Trevor puckered his lips and recoiled.
Essien smirked, then resumed her rigid posture. “Zwaq, eliminate all intruders.”
“Wait, what? You had that ability all this ti—”
ZOT! Laser turrets emerged from the ceiling panels and blasted every Dimathien. Their bodies exploded, showering the room with blood and guts like bursting water balloons. The Varokin guards retained their poise as innards smacked them from all directions. Jai cringed under the gory deluge, then groaned at the sight of his gunked-up suit.
“Shut up, you big baby,” Essien said as she sauntered off the platform. “They’ll reassemble in a tick and your suit will be fine.”
“Still gross.” Jai grimaced as he flung some snotty mucus from his fingertips.
Essien floated by him on her way to the entrance doors. She paused to address a minion. “Tell that moron—”
“Moreon,” Jai said.
“I didn’t misspeak, fuckface.” Essien glared at Jai, who sighed and bowed his head. “Tell that moron to meet me on the terrace. As much as it pains me to admit, I still need him and his merry band of fruitcakes.”
The minion nodded.
Essien patted her thigh. “Jai, come.”
Jai frowned and shuffled to her side.
Their footsteps squished through a fresh layer of carnage as they exited the room.
* * *
Max studied the Yarnwal dance troupe with wide-eyed fascination as Ross finished up a lengthy grooming session. With a final hoot and stomp, the ceremony came to a sharp conclusion. Chants faded into the dull roar of post-worship conversation. The crowd dispersed in all directions as tribe members headed home for the evening. Several tramped by the log stack, oblivious to the presence of the human and feline intruders. A handful of Yarnwals remained behind, content to chat around a dwindling bonfire. Max eyed them with annoyance, as their loafing thwarted a time-sensitive escape plan.
“Ugh, how are we going to get by them?”
Ross glanced up from a paw lick to study the lingering Yarnwals. A group of four prattled around a circle. One of them gripped a ceremonial spear as he wiped paint from his face with a tattered cloth. The other three seemed perfectly content to stand around in their scaly birthday suits. Their bulky frames kept Max at a safe distance, who griped and grumbled like a commuter stuck in traffic. Ross sighed and moseyed out from behind the log pile.
“Whoa, whoa, what the hell are you doing?” Max said with a harsh whisper.
Ross ignored him and maintained a casual stroll out into the ritual pit. Max gawked in horror as the cat approached the Yarnwals like a post-nap lion wandering the Serengeti. Ross halted behind the group, parked his bum, and cleared his throat. All four turned to the tiger and froze with fright. The crackle of bonfire embers broke a choking silence. Ross traded glances with each pair of widened eyes as tensions infected the air. The painted tribesman started to raise his spear, prompting the feline to lock eyes and growl. Rows of sharp teeth appeared behind giant fangs. The group started to back away at a slow and prudent pace. Ross matched each step, growling louder with each advance. The tiger erupted with a husky roar, causing the group to scream and scatter. The spear clanked to a rest beside the fire pit. Ross turned to Max as the entire camp began to stir.
“You coming or what?”
Max scampered out from behind the stack and sprinted towards Ross, who started trotting towards the Ripper ship. Yarnwals emerged from their huts with weapons in hand, alerted to the intrusion. The camp awoke with a bellow and converged on the central pit. Ross bounded up a crude set of stairs and onto the Ripper platform. Max followed him up, mumbling shit shit shit the entire way. The rounded vessel stood several meters tall with four tendrils protruding from either side. Ross smirked at his own reflection in the shiny black hull as he trotted towards the airlock in the rear. The yelps of furious warriors grew louder as the tribe neared the platform. A quick swipe and scan opened the airlock door, allowing Ross to enter. Max scurried around the vessel and dove inside before the door slid shut.
Soon after, a Yarnwal warrior slammed into the front of the ship and sprawled across the viewport like a meaty bug on a windshield. Max yelped and skittered backwards along the floor. Ross remained in a gargoyle stance, undeterred by the attack. Another warrior followed, then another, on and on until their cumulative mass covered the entire viewport. Their widened eyes radiated the unbridled rage of a father catching a boy bone-deep in his daughter. Max’s gaze darted around the Ripper interior. He gasped and trembled, feeling an equivalent need to dive out of a window.
“Calm down,” Ross said. “We’re inside and they’re not. At this very moment, you are the safest you have ever been on this planet.”
Max covered his racing heart. “They can’t get in?”
“It’s a primitive tribe of lizard bears versus a high-tech death machine from outer space. It might as well be an army of guinea pigs attacking a monster truck. We’re fine.”
Max glanced around a sea of angry eyeballs. One of the warriors sneezed, splattering the viewport with mucus. The slimy wad crawled down to the next warrior, causing a mild ruckus. Another warrior started to lick the glass, for reasons known only to him. Max inhaled a deep breath to reset his nerves, then refocused on the task at hand. “Okay, so what now?”
“We fix the ship. Or rather, I tell you what to do and you fix the ship.”
Max nodded, rubbed his wearied eyes, and plunked his head against the wall. With danger averted and adrenaline tapped, fatigue started to infect his mind.
“Remember, this is all for naught if you fall asleep. So, chop-chop.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Max nodded like a drunk fighting a blackout. “What do I need to do?”
Ross unsheathed a claw and hooked a wall panel. With a flick of the wrist, the panel clanked onto the floor, exposing a mess of tubes and wires.
Max groaned.
For the next several hours, Ross guided Max through a series of ship repairs. A splice here, a reroute there, a patch and hack to restore operations to the life support. Max took to the task like a duck to water, thrilled to apply everything he had learned as Perra’s protégé. Before long, he started to finish Ross’s sentences and jump to the next repair. A sense of worth and accomplishment filled his mind, offsetting a deep longing for his friends.
After the first hour, the Yarnwal warriors dropped their rage for a healthy dose of curiosity. A few even fetched some bricklebom (the local equivalent of popcorn). Max dangled his legs from inside a cramped cubby. The audience gasped with every conk and curse, as if watching a horror movie at an old drive-in theater.
Ross angled for a better view. “Okay, you see that green connector in the upper right corner?”
Max scanned the interior. “Um, yeah.”
“Attach the feeder hose—”
“—and lock the uplink. On it.” Max fed the hose through a mess of wires and twisted it into the port. A tap and flick reset the uplink. “Done.”
“And with that, this squid should be space worthy.”
“Hell yeah!” Max celebrated with a grunt and fist-pump, but bonked his head against the interior frame. The resulting curses triggered another round of gasps and mumbles from the audience. He snaked his way out of the cubby, climbed to his feet, and indulged in a much-needed backstretch. “So what exactly did we just do?”
“We repaired an ionic conduit and rerouted some flark switches.”
Max nodded and actually understood.
“The big problem was the reclaimers. They were busted up beyond repair, hence the emergency landing. So, we just bypassed them and fed the tanks directly into the ventilation system. In other words, you’ll be breathing pure oxygen.”
Max scrunched his brow. “Wait, isn’t that toxic?”
“Only for extended periods of time. You’ll be fine for a few hours, enough to get you into orbit and knock your ass out.” Ross pantomimed an uppercut.
Max deflated a bit. “Yeah, but ... won’t this version of me get poisoned and die?”
“Probably.”
“I, um ... hmm.”
“This was your plan, genius. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”
Max frowned like an innocent nipper having uncovered the Santa Clause lie.
Ross sighed. “Tell you what, after you shift away, I will wake your alter ego and give him the lowdown. He should have a 10-hour buffer before brain damage, which gives us plenty of time to iron out the weirdness. Sound good?”
“What if he doesn’t want to return?”
“Then I imagine he’ll die.”
“Can you not jump somewhere else?”
“In a rogue Ripper? That won’t raise any eyebrows.”
Max whimpered.
“This is hardly the time for an existential crisis. Infinite universes, infinite possibilities.”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing. At this very moment, there are countless versions of you getting eaten by the Yarnwals because you never made it to the ship. And trust me, those are the lucky ones. In a couple versions, the Yarnwals prefer to tenderize their meals in very unsettling ways. Don’t think about it, just look out for you.”
Max bowed his head and began to tear. He glanced at the viewport where numerous Yarnwals stared back at him through watering eyes. They had no idea what was going on, but dammit, they knew an emotional scene when they saw one.
Ross sauntered up to the pilot seat and hovered a paw over the console. Eager faces watched his every move. A few recoiled, unsure of what would happen next, but remained hooked on the unfolding drama.
Ross turned to Max. “Just say the word.”
Max sniffled, wiped his eyes, and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
“Word to the wise, don’t use that expression away from Earth. It has an entirely different connotation that I doubt you’re prepared to deal with.”
Max cringed. “Noted.”
Ross thumped the console.
Chirps and pings filled the cockpit as the control panel sputtered to life. Whirs and hums joined the party as the nav computer came online. Icons blinked and switches glowed. Coms crackled and the beacon rang. The entire ship rumbled as systems reconfigured and stabilized. The Ripper stirred as it woke from a long hibernation.
The Yarnwal audience yelped and scurried away from the viewport, save for one captivated youngster. Her father rushed back and snatched her from the glass as a trail of red lights climbed down the tentacles. The giant metal octopus exhaled a breath of resurrection.
Max and Ross traded a well-deserved high five.
Then the ground shook.
Max stumbled into a wall. “Was that us?”
“Not sure.” Ross glanced around the cabin.
“Maybe a burst disc?”
“Possibly.”
The ground shook again.
They locked eyes.
“Definitely not us,” Ross said with a twinge of worry.
Max leaned towards the viewport and gazed out across the village. Not a Yarnwal in sight. “Um, I don’t see anyone. Did they all leave the—”
Another shake, this time much closer.
The hull whined upon the platform.
Max and Ross pressed their faces to the viewport, then lifted widened eyes to the treetops.
A massive tree trunk split the canopy and slammed into the ground just outside of the village, rumbling the area on impact. Dirt and dust spilled off the village huts. A cloud of embers belched from the fire pit. Log piles and meat racks collapsed. Max and Ross gawked at the towering tree that fell from the heavens. Upon further scrutiny, they noticed a veneer of scaly bark and giant clawed roots. Not so much a tree as the colossal shin of a Yankar monster. The canopy cracked and rustled, showering branches onto the ground. Moments later, the gigantic head of a reptilian beast poked through the foliage. Nostrils the size of kiddy pools expelled puffs of heated breath. A pair of glowing red eyes scanned the village before fixating on the Ripper.
Ross gulped. “I should probably mention that creatures here are attracted to electrical signals. Very important. Fun fact for everyone.”
Max slogged a horrified gaze over to the tiger. “So what you’re saying, purely and simply, is that we just summoned Godzilla.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
The creature roared with the ferocity of a million air raid sirens. Bands of saliva detached from meter-long fangs and splashed into the dirt. A dollop hit the fire pit and snuffed it out in a large puff of steam, as if dousing it with a bathtub. The monster loomed over the Ripper and chomped down on the hull, yanking Max and Ross off their feet. The interior creaked and whined as the beast adjusted its bite. Instinct drove Max into the pilot seat. Hurried hands strapped in as the ship raised into the air. Ross pinned himself to a corner, digging claws into the walls and floor. The metal tentacles hung to either side of the creature’s jaws like a steampunk mustache. Max grabbed the yoke while staring down the gullet of the beast.
“What the hell do I do?!”
“Red squares on the right of the—” The ship jerked and jostled. “—fuel line bar! Tap them all to green!”
Max complied. “Now what?!”
“Switches overhead! Flick the entire second row!”
Max flicked them all. “Done!”
“Big green icon on the right side! Hit it!”
Max thumped the icon with a hard fist.
Thrusters ignited, which merely angered the beast. Blue flames turned gooey saliva into puffs of steam. Another roar sprayed the viewport with throat mucus. The beast whipped its head from side to side, trying to extinguish the nuisance. An enormous tongue wrapped around the hull and pulled the ship deeper into its throat.
Max yelped with every plunge.
Ross gnashed his teeth and adjusted his grip. “Okay, this one’s gonna be tricky. You ready?”
“No, give me a minute to think about it.”
“Um, well—”
“Of course I’m ready! Give me the goddamn orders!”
Ross sneered in response.
The ship jostled with another gulp.
“Do you see the eight blue indicators on the left?”
“Yeah.”
“Hit the big red icon beneath ‘em.”
“Got it.”
“Now tap ‘em all on.”
“Done.”
A crimson glow filled the monster’s throat as the Ripper tendrils armed for battle.
“When I say go, you need to swipe the second ladder up to full power, hit the lower icon again, then whip the yoke hard left. Understand?”
“Got it.”
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
Max hovered a shaking palm over the console, waiting for the signal. Ross narrowed his eyes and held his breath. The creature gulped again, bringing the vessel down into the throat.
“Now!”
Max swiped the ladder.
The tendrils stirred.
Max slapped the icon.
The tendrils shot out the creature’s neck, spraying blood over the village and drawing a screech.
Max yanked the yoke hard left.
The ship spun and sliced through the wall of flesh.
The Ripper decapitated the beast.
An enormous head spun through the air and slammed into the earth. The headless body leaned off to the side and crashed through the canopy, hooking vines and snapping branches on its way down. The tower of flesh crashed onto the ground, lifting a tidal wave of dust and dirt. The impact climbed into the trees, rustling the leaves and creaking trunks. Blood gushed from head and neck stump, forming crimson lakes around the body.
Max and Ross felt the impact from inside the hovering Ripper. Ross retracted his claws, rose from the corner, and rolled his shoulders. Max maintained his death-grip on the control yoke. Saucer-like eyes stared into a viewport caked in blood and guts. Ross strolled up beside him, studied the carnage, then tapped a console icon. A stream of water hit the glass as a pair of wipers swiped it clean. Max inhaled a deep breath, held it for a tick, then exhaled a long fluttering sigh. Ross grinned and bumped his shoulder.
“Nicely done.”
Max closed his eyes, steadied his nerves, then screamed at the top of his lungs.
Ross flinched into a stumble. “Jeebus.”
Max released his grip and melted into the seat. “Sorry. Had some pent-up horror there.”
“You do realize what just happened, right?”
Max slogged his gaze over to Ross.
“You, brave samurai, have bested the mighty Gozira!” Ross clasped his paws and bowed.
“That’s racist ... and chronologically inaccurate.”
A muted roar hooked their attention. It seemed to come from all directions, like a blanket of static washing over the vessel. Max glanced around the cabin.
“What the hell is that?”
Ross grinned. “Cheering.”
“The Yarnwals are cheering? But, we nearly destroyed their village.”
“No, you just filled their pantry. They’ll be gnawing on Godzilla jerky for the next 20 winters.”
A slight grin lifted Max’s cheek.
“You did a good thing, Earthman.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
“On that note, let’s orally pleasure a row of hairy naked men on a cold park bench.”
“Wha—what?”
“Oh, sorry. I meant, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
“That’s ... wow.”
“Semantics, dude.”
Max swiped an icon ladder to full capacity, igniting the main engine. He gripped the yoke and pulled back, angling the ship to a maze of branches. Ross smirked at his longtime companion like a proud father.
“You got this?”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”
“Um, you might not want to—”
“Shut up. I don’t want to know.”
Max grabbed the throttle and thrust forward. The Ripper surged upwards on a pillar of flame. It darted through the Yankar treetops and burst through the upper canopy. The spidery ship sliced through the atmosphere, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. The rumble softened to a hum as the vessel entered the blackness of open space. A twinkling sea filled the viewport, drawing a wide smile on Max’s face.
Ross tapped his shoulder. “Oh, and one more thing.”
Max turned to Ross, who reared back and punched him in the face.