Captain's Call

   The captain and the consular stood outside the orange-hued barrier of the holding cell, grimly observing the creature inside.  The seven-foot-tall monstrosity was bipedal and very solidly built.  It closely resembled its human progenitors, except for its massive bulk and a large cavity centered in the torso from which a head would periodically emerge to spit large quantities of a sickly green goo.  As the two officers watched, it did just this, and continued banging angrily against the walls of the cell, snarling with rage.

   "This one is colloquially called 'a spitter' by the men on the ground," explained the consular in a sophisticated tone.  He was dressed in an elegant kind of ceremonial armor consisting of synthetic, interlocking blue and purple ribs, and his features were drawn and decidedly sylvan, despite his basically human ancestry.  "The mucus it produces is, of course, highly toxic, capable of eating through most organic matter and even some artificial compounds."  Captain Jack nodded and the two sauntered down to the next holding cell.

   "And this one," continued the consular as he leaned in towards the barrier, "despite its appearance, is but a shadow of its former, human self."  Inside, a slightly less burly but more intelligent-looking creature stood, eyeing the pair.  It had vestiges of the ribbed, ceremonial armor clinging to its mutated flesh, and the captain found it particularly odd that the ribs had flexed and stretched, unbroken, along the monster's enormous back and up to its face, continuing to provide it protection.  The mutant leaned back and let out a loud yell of frustration before slamming itself against a wall.

   "The only element remaining in the minds of these mutants is a singular rage, manifest in their mindless aggression," the consular said.

   As the consular and Captain Jack watched, the monster leaned back and instead of roaring again, he knelt and calmly closed its eyes.  Holographic images appeared and radiated outwards and upwards from his chest, indicating an outgoing transmission.  Rather than stop the transmission, the captain let it go out; it was time this whole mess came to its inevitable head.

   After a few moments, a loud and repeated beeping signaled an incoming call.  Captain Jack walked around the corner, where a medium-sized screen swiveled around to greet him.  The screen was mounted on a flat surface that formed a sort of table in front of a large viewport.  In addition to the screen, several controls and a small dispenser chamber were recessed into the cheap plastic.

   "Hello?  Hello?" said Jack, trying to answer the call.  He had done this before, but it appeared there was some lag this time.  "Hello?"

    A small, toy-like robot appeared on the screen and said, "Greetings, captain.  Please wait while signal link is being achieved."  A loading screen came up, to which Jack indicated that he would like a drink while waiting.

   "Signal link achieved," said the robot.  

   "Yes, hello," answered Jack.

   "Here is another drink for you, captain," said the robot.  At this, a small, translucent plastic sample cup popped out of the dispenser chamber and was filled with a tiny amount of an equally clear liquid.  Jack grabbed the cup and downed the liquor, which he determined was vodka.

   "Greetings, captain," began the robot.  As it spoke, Jack wondered when next it would offer another drink.  Goodness knew he could use one.  Though, he wouldn't drink too much; the men on the planet would soon be facing some fairly horrifying things.

Thief Death

  Jack stood at the front door waving goodbye to The Father as he drove off, and Joey the Thief approached through the darkness with a devilish smile and a pocketknife in hand.

   "Ech, Joey the Thief," said Jack, "I always expect you.  Especially when my dad drives off."

   "Hand it over," said Joey, still smiling.  Jack complied, and Joey entered the house and stood just inside.

   "That's all I have," said Jack.

   "You sure?  I'm pretty sure you've got some more."

   "No, that's it."

   "I think you're lying."

   Jack definitely had more; the house contained many items of moderate value, perfect for a moderate thief like Joey.  However, like anyone else, Jack was reticent to part with his stuff.  So, he decided to try co-opting Joey rather than flat-out denial.

   "Uh, would you like to come in for some water?" asked Jack.  Joey lowered the knife slightly.

   "Ok."

   "But," said Jack, hesitating as they walked up the stairs, "try not to steal anything, please.  I'd really prefer you didn't.  Already I'm not happy about that Apple moniter."  Jack pointed to the computer screen tucked under Joey's arm.

   "Hmm, I'm not sure I can do that."

   "Aww, please?  Just come up for some water, without touching anything."

   Negotiations continued, then the two pressed onward.


   Jack became a frog named Daniel del Boulderbelt.  Joey the Thief also took on some amphibious qualities.


   Daniel del Boulderbelt hopped down the tunnel with Joey.  The tunnel was well-lit and mostly smooth.  A rumbling indicated that the tunneling horror was encroaching from both sides.  Growing fearful, Daniel del Boulderbelt and Joey ran to the nearest side passage.  The opening was very small, and while Daniel del Boulderbelt had no problem squeezing through, Joey became stuck.

   "Go on, go on without me!" Joey yelled over the deafening rumble.  The enormous mouths were nearly upon him.

   "No, I can't!" said Daniel del Boulderbelt, grabbing Joey's hand and trying to pull him through.  He could see in Joey's eyes, and feel within himself, the inevitability of the moment, as if every step they'd taken on their journey, every moment in their oft adversarial relationship, had led to this event.  Joey would die, and the frog would continue on.

   "You have to!  Go! Go!  Achh! AHH!! NOOOO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Joey screamed in agony.  Daniel del Boulderbelt watched as his face and body were torn out of the hole, replaced with the solid, writhing mass of the tunneling horror.  The frog backed slowly down the side passage, watching the slime scrape off the worm's body and ooze slowly forward.

   "Hmmm...the slime doesn't matter..." said Daniel del Boulderbelt, thinking aloud, "...or does it?  There's one guy with the most slime.  Slurry!"

   With that, the frog dropped into Slurry's lair, a hollowed volcano, to confront the slimy mass about Joey's death.  Daniel del Boulderbelt dropped into the luminescent green ooze with a plop.

   "Why, hello!" said the disembodied voice of Slurry with mock gregariousness.

   "Save it, Slurry," said Daniel del Boulderbelt.  "Tell me what part you played in Joey the Thief's death!"

    "Ho ho ho!" Slurry laughed deeply, "You could wrap up my entire self and I still wouldn't tell.  And what about you?  You destroyed miles and miles of tunnel!"

   "Oh, that doesn't matter," said the frog dismissively.

Moose Lake

   "This one is called 'Moose Lake,'" explained Jack as he zoomed around the planet, taking it in from various angles.  It was large and composed mostly of blueish-purple water.  There were only a few splotches of green land dotting the massive orb.

   "This really scares me for some reason," Jack continued.

   "Hm," said the enormous avatar of Montano with disinterest, gazing off into deep space.  Montano floated next to the ocean world, dwarfing it by several factors.  "What was it called again?  Something, Bake?"

   "Moose Lake."

   "Oh..." said Montano, his tone changing slightly as he examined the planet with renewed interest.  "That scares me, too."

Earth Return

   Since the Chimeran invasion, Jack and the small band of survivors had been traveling the stars in their small ship.  For years and years they'd wandered and explored, all the while wondering what had happened back home, on Earth.  Eventually, they decided to return, at least for a time.  As they docked with the land-based spaceport just off the coast of Atlanta, they wondered what kind of desolation they would find on the inside, let alone on the surface.

   There was indeed desolation in the port, but not nearly to the extent they'd expected, and, astonishingly, there were survivors.  Small bands of humans had formed and were living an ad hoc existence.  Jack's group fell in with the survivors, and for a time they all lived together.  However, the survivors were mysteriously close-lipped about their experience.  Once, Jack had questioned one, without much success.

   "So, where are the chimera?" he'd asked.

   "Hmmm?" replied the survivor.

   "The chimera?  The ones who invaded and wiped out the human race?  Where are they?  What happened, how did you drive them off?"

   "What?"

   Conditions on the planet were equally off-limits to the travelers, even if the survivors had any information.  So, life continued in this fashion for some time, the two parties coexisting.

   Even so, differences in opinion arose, and resent towards the ones who'd fled served as a catalyst for a coup.  The spaceport survivors, along with a portion of the travelers, informed Jack and the remainder that they were leaving in the craft.  Jack was devastated.  As he said goodbye to the survivors, as well as some he'd traveled the stars with, his heart felt heavier than it ever had.  He was losing his last link to space, forced to part with everything he'd seen and done in his adult life.  That grief would never leave, not as long as he lived.

   Once the craft departed, Jack and the people remaining hatched plans to fly an archaic jetliner on a scouting mission to the surface.  With the survivors gone, they could finally indulge their curiosity about what had transpired on the planet in their absence.

   The jet rumbled uncertainly as it neared downtown Atlanta.  To their surprise, the passengers saw moving vehicles and pedestrians down on the highway.  They decided to land the jet, turning the scouting mission into a one-way trip; landing the jet without a runway would cause irreparable damage, meaning they would never be able to return to the spaceport hovering offshore.  Instead, they would rejoin the human race, building a new world even as they lived among ruins of the old one.  Still Jack grieved.

Assassination Trip

   Jack sat in the passenger seat as Montano drove down the long highway. To the right, amid the prairie grass, stood the airport.  But soon it became clear that Montano didn't intend to stop there.

   "Hey, we're not going to the airport?" Jack asked.

   "No, we're driving," replied Montano.

   "Uh, where's the assassination, again?"

   "Maryland."

   "But that's, like, twenty hours away!"

   "Eh," shrugged Montano.  Jack furrowed his brow and returned his attention to the road.

   After a short silence, Montano unbuckled his seatbelt and said, "Here, you drive."

   "Ok," agreed Jack.  They switched seats and Jack took the wheel.  Just as they were about to pass the exit for the airport, Jack once again broached the subject.

  "So, we're not going to the airport?"

  "Eh," Montano shrugged again. 

   "I mean, I guess we can drive...yeah, ok, we’ll drive there, roll in sometime in the morning, do the assassination, then we can stay somewhere before flying back."

Sinking Blackness

   Jack rode the dark waves, as he had done previously.  All around, the land was flooded, the water mirroring the black sky.  Despite the danger, Jack was calm.  His Fisher-Price car was operating well, and he'd done this many times before.  He reflected on his experiences as he neared the spot where the streams met.

   "And with the spill, cleanup authorities are now on the scene!" said an enthusiastic announcer from somewhere in the sky.  At that moment, Jack caught the smell of raw sewage and felt his craft buckle as it met increased resistance in the water.  Reaching the spot where the streams met, he fell off the boat and into the sludgy water, where he swirled toward a small whirlpool.  Realizing what had happened, and realizing that it was too late to save himself, he sank into the muck.  As his body's systems went into panic mode, his mind struggled to reconcile its immediate, inevitable demise with the knowledge that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Blood Condition

   Jack, Montano and Moptop ran up the ornate stairway.  The entry hall to the matriarch's mansion was warmly lit and full of plants.  Upon reaching the top, Moptop collapsed on a railing overlooking the lower floor from which they'd come.  The matriarch looked on with calm interest.

   "He's okay, it's just his blood disease," explained Montano.  The matriarch raised her eybrows.  "Oh, he's not a hemophiliac," continued Montano, "it's just that his blood runs a little too well."

   By this point, Moptop's breathing had slowed and his eyes were closed, though he was still draped over the railing.  From another railing across the opening, Montano started yelling, try to rouse his friend.

   "Hey, Moptop," said Montano, "remember that game with Dalger?  Remember that one move he made, in the game?"

   Moptop raised his head and opened his eyes.

   "Yeah," shouted Montano, "remember the game?"

   "Yeah!" replied Moptop loudly, regaining strength, "yeah, I do!  I remember!"  With this, Moptop jumped and raised his arms towards the sky for a moment before once again losing strength.  He collapsed and Jack caught him before he hit the ground.