Scorched Earth, Alien Wonders

According to Brown’s study of Earth history, this Bunsen-burner planet used to have distinct seasons: Winter (cold), spring (warm), summer (hot) and fall (cool). Songs were written about them. Traditional holidays and celebrations became synonymous, with each change in the weather...but those days were long gone.

Now, Earth was an orbital system that ranged from hot and hotter, to scalding.

Every. Single. Relentless. Day.

I could not figure out how the town-folk stayed as cheerful and trusting as they did in such conditions. Even with my faltering prairie dog subroutine that allowed me to become more tolerant of the heat, it was still a constant aggravation.

So, knowing we weren’t going to meet with Cassie at the lab again, until the following day, because her and Wilder were staying close to Sara, my team and I volunteered to help the town-folk with their entertainment device recharge project at the Rabbit Hole. It was time for that tedious pain in the neck chore to get done, so we thought we would make ourselves useful, since being without nightly entertainment would make everyone in Suburbia suicidal.

It was human inaction that destroyed the planet’s ability to sustain any decent quality of life. Yet, ironically, watching ancient, fictional make-believe, enactments by humans of everything from sheer stupidity, fantasy and balderdash; to brilliant and funny entertainment, was what made this dismal existence bearable for the prairie dog population.

And it was making our visit bearable, too, despite Moore’s annoyance with all things Sheldon Cooper.

Later that day, my team was helping the PD groups lower the entertainment devices back down the tunnel to the chamber floor for re-installation after they had been pulled up top, and laid in the dirt facing the sun for a few hours.

As they continued working on the project, I stepped to the back corner, and used the binocs to get Qualdron on the line. After exchanging the latest update on the three stooges attack I got right to my question.

“Do you have any more information about who bribed Jones to join this assignment at the last minute, and what they want from her when we return?”

“Like I said before, the order came from powers higher up the scale than I am, but I can tell you what I suspect,” he replied, looking at me through the lenses with a conspiratorial expression.

Hmmmm...

“Okay, what do you suspect?”

“I think the action was planned and timed by ambitious leaders of the Rosen High Council,” he responded bluntly. “Because, as you know, I learned through a loyal source there have been deep-space communications picked up by the council’s probes that warned them of an impending raid on Rosen for a mineral element we have in abundance here.”

“Who has the ability to finance, arm, and use sophisticated galactic travel to achieve such a plot other than humans?” added Qualdron.

“Good point,” I responded. “The primate civilization on Draxia doesn’t have it. The arachnid civilization on Thoruvia doesn’t have it. I could go on.”

“I agree, it has to be humans,” responded Qualdron. “And hopefully the High Council will develop enough intestinal fortitude to go on the offense if they suspect an invasion against them.”

“Back to Jones...how does she fit into any of this, because you told me she was the only one I could trust when you were trying to track the encoded messages that were being sent by Torie to his girlfriend?”

Qualdron repeated the same version of his earlier explanation, and it still didn’t feel right.

“I didn’t think she would have been the one sending unauthorized messages about a rumored plan she already knew about, but if they said she should report to them as soon as you guys get back, that is probably what she should do.”

“Qualdron, does the name Drake Industries mean anything to you?”

“Negative.”

That was a quick answer...

“Okay, contact me if you come across that name in your interspace decoding and deciphers. That’s all I have for now. Memphis out.”

I couldn’t remember anything about Qualdron’s reputation that would explain why he questioned the integrity of Rosen leaders the way he did that day, and it gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Later that evening, we were sitting around the floor as usual talking about the day’s events and the movie we watched at the Rabbit Hole after recharging all the devices.

“Carl Sagan was a brilliant scientist, who lived way ahead of his time, as they would say on this planet,” remarked Jones, as she described the creator of Contact.

“Yeah, but what I liked most about this movie was the part where it only took Ellie 18 seconds to traverse a gazillion light years through a series of complex wormholes,” said Davis.

“It may take only seconds,” injected Doc, remembering his first transporter experience when we arrived on Earth. “But it sure as hell feels like a lot longer when vulnerable molecules are being scrambled and unscrambled like Humpty-Dumpty. Ellie got to travel in a space capsule, while we had to go the full Monty.”

Then Brown changed the subject.

“Speaking of space travel...what happens if we aren’t finished with our mission, which now might also include a deep-core water extraction attempt...in time to catch the wormhole before it expires?”

Hmmmm...

Silence.

Just then Torie swirled up from the mini-binocs that were sitting next to my fluffy, dirt bed.

“We better be finished in time or we should scrap the mission as a failure, and just go back home!” barked Torie, his gray eyes flashing with impatience.

“Ease-dropping again, eh Torie?” I asked the grumpy bot-shifter.

“I have someone waiting for me back home!” Torie continued his rant, “So just because the rest of you don’t...doesn’t mean we shouldn’t all be lined up at that exact spot we arrived at, to jump into that wormhole before it expires!”

“Hey, hey, I think my wife wouldn’t like you telling me that I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home,” replied Doc, with feigned indignation.

“I’m pretty sure my boyfriend wouldn’t like it, either,” chuckled Brown.

“My Mum and Pop would disagree with you, too,” said Davis. “And I know my pet lioneppard would bite you for saying such a thing.”

“I have an ex-wife who probably wouldn’t miss me at all, but I still want to go home,” injected Moore.

“How about you, Jones?” I asked. “Is there a Mr. Jones and family waiting for you?”

“Look, we have already agreed that helping Cassie and these people, is the right thing to do. But what would happen if we are delayed?” asked Jones, ignoring my question.

“Shouldn’t the techs be able to reestablish the transporter wormhole fairly soon even if the program parameter expires?” asked Torie, clearly unnerved by the thought of being marooned on this unstable world.

“Yes and no,” Davis replied.

“Yes, because the techs can re-establish the transport system in a matter of hours after Qualdron has given the order...and no, because the ripples of space could cause the wormhole entrance to open up somewhere far away from here.”

“That’s right,” said Brown. “If we aren’t there to leave this planet at that location before it expires, we could end up having to trek across country to some distant location like, say, where the Everglades in Florida used to be. We were lucky they got us as close to Suburbia as they did this time.”

“A cross-country trek on this blistering planet?” injected Moore. “Bloody fica- hell, even Torie’s donkey would fall over dead.”

Suddenly, I heard a rumbling sound then everything began to vibrate as pebbles and bits of dirt fell from the ceiling. It only lasted a few seconds, but that night we experienced our second nerve-wracking, shaker-quake since we landed.

Torie immediately swirled back into the mini-binocs without another cranky word, while the rest of us prepared for an uneasy night on our fluffy, dirt beds.

Doc had checked my subroutine earlier, and said it was unchanged, but I still had unexpected snippets of time when I became overwhelmed with mysterious feelings of dread and unease.

Damn this is starting to chap my hide.

The next morning I checked with Daisy on our way to the lab to make sure there was no undue damage from the tremor the night before, but she assured us everything was fine. The town-folk actually liked the timing, which was after the entertainment hour for a change.

We trooped onward to the lab with me in the lead, but I had to pace myself to keep from getting barked at by everyone for moving too fast in the flaming heat.

Torie was flying along with us as the blue dragonfly, which he did a lot these days, presumably because it reminded him of the first time he met his girlfriend on a Rosen field trip. Since he could no longer sneak messages out to her, the dragonfly was probably his way of keeping her memory close. Or maybe it was the thought that he might never see her again that influenced his choice when he was out of stasis these days.

As we approached the lab I knew Cassie must already be inside, because the lock they put on the front door the night after the three stooges attack was now gone.

“Jones,” I yelled to the back of the line. “Care to join me up front?”

Jones hopped up to stand next to me in front of the lab. I climbed onto the porch so we could see each other face-to-face.

“I’m sure there probably isn’t anyone inside except Cassie, and maybe her father, but you might want to get your badass weapon ready and follow me in... just in case.”

She swirled her bifurcated tail up to grab it solidly in her right hand.

“Lead on, Captain. I got your back.”

I opened the door to the familiar feeling of cool air blowing back my whiskers, and I stuck my head cautiously in through the opening.

“Cassie, are you here?”

The place was well lit and the sound of Three Dog Night’s “Never been to Spain” was playing softly in the back ground, so I knew she was there.

I walked in followed by Jones, who held her tail up like a pitchfork ready for enemy action. The rest of the team strolled in behind us, and we stood looking around. Then Cassie and her father walked out from behind the main computer screen to greet us.

“Hi guys,” said Cassie...then Sara came walking out, too, and stood next to her husband and daughter.

“SARA!” We all yelled at once, like little kids at the sight of a long-lost puppy.

Everyone gathered around the family hooting and yipping, because we were so glad to be confronted with good news for a change. Sara looked pale, but she was smiling brightly, as she hugged and greeted us all.

“How is it that you are up and around so soon?” asked Doc. “We thought you were nearly on your death bed.”

Wilder put his arm around Sara’s shoulder and answered Doc’s question for her. He explained the medics very quickly amended their treatment, because they originally thought it was a case of noxious food poisoning instead of a profound case of morning sickness from being pregnant.

Who would’ve guessed, right?

Cassie, Sara and Wilder sat on stools and we all climbed up on the bench facing them, except Jones, who stood at the end...still quietly clutching her tail.

“We don’t have a lot of security here, because there hasn’t been any crime, but yesterday my personal guards found, and arrested the three stooges you guys described.” said Wilder. “They are currently locked up in one of the janitor’s latrines.”

I sensed that was my opening. I knew it was the time for me to take my shot and lay out all the cards.

“I have something to tell you guys about the night we came to the lab and found out Sara was sick, and we fought off the stooges. I had planned to level with Cassie and Sara about why we are really on this planet, and ask them for their help.” I put it as straightforward as I could.

“The truth is we are here on behalf of Rosen leaders to investigate a potential raid by humans on our planet to extract aluminum. Our deep-space probes picked up communications about such plans presumably by the Mars government,” I said, watching Wilder’s face very carefully.

I clearly had his interest, so I continued.

“We believe Borish Drake...owner of Drake Industries, who made a fortune off extracting every ounce of aluminum from Earth to build the anti-gravity systems on Mars—was behind the attack on Cassie.”

“Yes,” Moore joined in. “I’m sure you know by now, the stooges were Russian, but we believe they were trying to destroy Cassie and Sara’s work, under direct orders from Drake himself. But he didn’t count on anyone else being at the lab that night.”

“Much less anyone who could speak Russian,” added Brown.

“Do you have any proof that Drake was behind the attack?” Wilder asked, who seemed genuinely baffled and curious.

“The lead stooge yelled out ‘Borish said to destroy it all’ in Russian as they were attacking,” replied Brown.

“It’s our theory that it would not be in Drake’s best interest for Cassie and Sara’s deep-core water extraction attempt to succeed,” said Moore.

“Yeah,” I jumped in again with the main point. “And we think Drake is behind the potential raid on Rosen for more aluminum. The question is...who in Mars government is involved with him?”

What Wilder said next took everyone by surprise.

“There’s an entire Mars committee working on plans to find more aluminum, and Borish Drake is the chairman. But as far as I know, none has ever been found.”