Science Fiction Story – When the Meds Wear Off
Photo Credit: www.cepolina.com
A tall Lakota Sioux man, wearing the uniform of a US Navy Officer, and sporting the insignia and stripes indicating the rank of Captain, sat in the center seat on the C&C of a Ticonderoga Class cruiser, and spoke into his log recorder.
“Captain’s Log; 12 May 2110. Captain John Running Wolf Recording. USS Ticonderoga is on a routine patrol in sector one one nine by one five three by seven two eight. Lieutenant Commander Dahm has reported a previously unknown star system — with the possibility of inhabitable planets — approximately twelve point two seven light years off of our starboard bow. I’ve ordered Lieutenant Commander Knox to set course for the aforementioned system. End recording.”
The Captain then addressed the Vietnamese American woman sitting at the Navigation Station; “Ensign Chau, ETA to the inhabitable zone of that system, please.”
“One point two minutes, present speed, sir.”
“Very well,” the Captain replied. “Mister Knox, reduce speed to ten light years per day. If the system has a thick ort cloud, slow to sublight upon approach. Otherwise, coordinated with Ensign Chau, and navigate your way through the ort cloud at said speed. When we’ve to come within ten light minutes of the inhabitable zone, slow to sublight.”
“Aye sir,” said the African American helmsman.
“Commander Gitter,” said the Captain, “send to Rear Admiral Amstutz on New Guam; ‘have discovered a new star system, previously hidden from scanners by a hyperspace anomaly similar to the one which protected the Vatican during the Darkwar. Moving to investigate; will send a full report when mission complete; Running Wolf out’.”
The brunette at Communications nodded; “Aye, sir; transmitting now. ETA to New Guam; ten minutes, sir.”
“Mister Dahm, are you sure?” inquired the Captain.
“Aye, sir,” said the freckle faced red haired young Science Officer. “The planet’s seas are P.H. negative four, which means they are highly acidic. While the ship’s armor belt should be able to handle it for a few hours, the fumes will wreak havoc with our more delicate scanners, corroding them in a matter of minutes, sir.”
“Yet, your sensors show some kind of movement beneath the surfaces of the planet’s seas and other bodies of water?” the Captain queried. “Is it life?”
“It is, sir,” said Mister Dahm. “Scanners show DNA. But the life forms are not carbon based, but of an unknown matter, sir. Internal temperatures for the life forms in question range from one thousand and three thousand degrees Celsius, sir.”
“What about the land masses?” asked the Captain. “Are they safe for a launch to land on?”
“Aye, sir,” Mister Dahm replied. “The atmospheric pressure is one point two Terran atmospheres’ gravity is one point six that of Earth. The universal air temperature — yes, sir, I said ‘universal’ — is seventy degrees Celsius. The atmosphere consists of, heavy amounts of Carbon Monoxide, Sulfur Dioxide, and Xenon, sir.”
“Yet your sensors show life forms on the surface as well, am I correct, Mister Dahm?”
“Aye, sir. Apparently, the surface dwelling life is comprised of the same strange matter as the sea life, sir.”
“Very well, Mister Dahm. For now, we’ll remain in orbit, and scan from…”
“Sir,” interjected Commander Gitter, “I’m getting a strange transmission of sorts, coming on a carrier wave similar to brain waves, coming from the planet’s surface. Putting it over audio now, sir.”
“Captain Running Wolf; this is High Prefect Norvalla zum Trialsk,” said a baritone voice. “You, your Chief Engineer Lieutenant Miki Turo, Chief Science Officer Lieutenant Commander Dennis Dahm, Chief Computer Specialist Lieutenant Nivda Turo, and Chief Medical Officer Commander Oblanda Shalvera will meet me on the surface of this planet, in one of your hours. If you do not comply, I will destroy your ship. And do not think of trying to flee; the moment you power up your engines, your ship will be destroyed.”
“How do you know our names?” the Captain asked.
“That is not important; what I have demanded is. You are wasting time, Captain. Comply, or you will all die in just over fifty-nine of your minutes, and counting.”
“Very well, you win. Commander Gitter, page Lieutenants Turo and CMO Shalvera, and have them report to the main launch bay. Mister Dahm, you’re with me. Mister Gitter, you have the conn.”
A five foot tall female mouse-like humanoid, weighing about ninety pounds, with sapphire eyes, and a shock of brown hair, dyed red at the tips, and soft golden brown fur covering her face, hands, and tail (which poked through a hole in the back of her uniform trousers), a male mouse-like creature, about five feet two inches tall, with broad stripes of black and white running diagonally across his face, hands, and tail, and a black and white tiger striped female cat-like humanoid, wearing regulation Government Issue Navy medical scrubs, all stood waiting on the hanger deck, near the foot of a launch’s ramp.
“Everyone on board,” ordered the Captain. “There’s no time to waste. And, no, I have no idea why we were summoned, or how the hell they know our names, ranks, or positions.”
As everyone hurried up the ramp, the male mouse-like being made a beeline for the cockpit, taking the co-pilot’s seat, whilst the Captain took the pilot’s seat.
“No time for the standard checklist, Mister Turo,” said the Captain. “We’ve been given an ultimatum; get to the meeting place in about fifty four minutes, or our ‘host’ will destroy the ship.”
“Aye, sir,” said the mouse-like Lieutenant.
“Everyone, get into environmental suits; things read…”
The Captain’s orders were interrupted by the voice of High Prefect Norvalla zum Trialsk; “That will not be necessary, Captain. I have arranged for a safe area for you and your people. Now, step outside of your craft. I assure you it is safe, Captain.”
“Affirmative, sir,” said Mister Dahm, who was holding a scanner in his right hand. “Readings indicate an area of Earth normal atmosphere. Temperature; twenty-five degrees Celsius; gravity one G.”
“Well, then,” said the Captain, in a perplexed sounding voice, “let’s not keep our ‘host’ waiting.”
He then pushed a button, and the hatch opened with a HISS WHUMP, before the ramp began to lower. The landing party then stepped down unto a landscape of hardened lava, pumice, ash, and basalt, which was mostly black and grey as far as the eye could see, except where interrupted by the occasional yellow of sulfur deposits.
“Welcome to Gehenna, Captain,” said a very tall and beautiful female being, who spoke with the incongruously baritone voice. “I am High Prefect Norvalla zum Trialsk. Does my appearance please you?”
“Yes, I suppose,” said the Captain. “But you didn’t demand our presence to ask us trivial questions regarding how attractive you look. What do you want from us?”
“Ah, straight to the point; good,” said the High Prefect. “It’s simple, Captain; you will entertain us. For as long as we are entertained, you will live. Once we get bored, you will die. My people and I will board your ship with you, live with your crew, and observe everything you do; your work, your recreation, your rest, your sexual activities; everything that beings of your sort do, and everything that makes you what you are. You will take us everywhere you go, and we will observe.
“And you will keep our presence a secret. Your superiors will not know of our existence. If you reveal anything about what has taken place here, or anything about our presence on your ship, we will destroy your ship. And beware, Captain; keep us intrigued and entertained, or your crew will die first, each one in turn, right before your very eyes, and finally, after you have watched them die, you will die of slow torment. But not before we arrange to lure another ship to rendezvous with yours, in preparation to take control of that ship. ”
“Really?” the Captain retorted. “You expect us to just give in to your demands, just like that? We’re made of sterner stuff than you suspect. We are military, and are by nature, willing to die, even horrible deaths, rather than just roll over and play dead, just to give you transportation and entertainment. In fact, upon my order, my Exec will self destruct, rather than let us board with you and your people.
“And I don’t think you have the means to do all that you’ve threatened to do, or you would have demonstrated your abilities by now. Your bluff is called, High Prefect. We’re leaving now.”
“How far do you think you’ll get, before I revert the atmosphere back to normal, Captain?!” screamed the High Prefect. “How far…?”
“Norvalla zum Trialsk! That’s enough!” boomed a basso profundo voice. “Let them go, and come take your medicine!”
“But…”
“Come on, Norvalla zum Trialsk. Be a good High Prefect. You know how you get when your medicine wears off.”
“Oh, very well, Nurse Shimma zor Glovnuk; I’m coming. You may go, now, Captain. My nurse is calling me.”
“My apologies to you and your crew,” said the basso profundo voice. “She used to be a High Prefect, over a million of your years ago, but she was deposed, due to insanity. We’ve been taking care of her since. She only gets this way when she hasn’t taken her medicine. We promise you, this will not happen again. We will hide this system again.”
“I’ll have to contact my superiors,” said the Captain, “and request that the location of this planet be kept classified, and that this sector be put under quarantine.”
“We would appreciate this, Captain. You may leave, now.”
“Thank you,” said the Captain. “Well, you heard the nurse. Let’s get the hell outta here.”
“Let that be a lesson for all of you,” said Dr. Shalvera. “Always listen to your doctor.”
–END–
