Get Me Off This Planet

Date: Year of the Turtle Star - Second Rotation of the Planet Xeabxeb III

Time: Ten-Sun - Day of Luana

The Caton Handbook to Wildlife on Xeabxeb III (pronounced Zeb-Zeb) listed the little creatures as:

K-Trill: The typical K-trill native is a hive-mind, consisting of flocks of up to one hundred bird-like creatures averaging a meter in height, each of which looks as if a lonely peacock had gotten romantically and genetically intertwined with a squid. The mind itself can manifest in any or all of the individual flock members. They are carnivorous with an extremely voracious appetite. If you approach them at all, which we discourage, approach with caution.

And I was up to my armpits in them.

If my jump pack didn't fire soon, I would most likely be lunch. The smell of propylethelene scorched my nostrils and I felt the jump pack shudder. The burners lit and jerked me up straight upward just as one of the little buggers nearly bit into the part of my backside exposed by the fall onto the dead coral sea that comprised most of the valley. If I had realized the K-trills were migrating this morning, you can be damn sure I wouldn't have come anywhere near the Aglaral Basin.

I skidded to a dusty halt just outside the airlock and keyed my remote. Shrugging off the battered pack onto the clean diamond-steel floor of the ship was a god-send. I needed a shower - but my report had to be made and sent off as soon as possible. The last thing I wanted was a citation for not informing the biological institute about the trill migration. Somebody stupid and uninformed could stumble into the valley like I did and end up dead. I keyed the green screen just outside the airlock and mumbled my password into the com, brushing the hair back from my eyes.

"Please repeat request." Great, Saala was in a pissy mood. I sighed and keyed the green screen again, bellowing just loud enough the make the feedback speaker whine.

"Zosia Donovan, password Critterkeeper. I need access to the interstellar connection, Alaster Theta Six."

"Complying with request...please stand by. Geez you're in a bad mood Zosia - whassamatter? K-trills got ya down?"

"Watch it Saala, I'm not in the mood. I almost got my butt chewed on out there, so just put me through okay?"

SAALA: Self-Aware Artificial Lifeform Assistant - Generation 7 An operating system specifically designed to augment the performance capabilities of the Alaster Biological Corp. When installed in a starcraft, can be a useful companion for cataloguing various species and sending back reports that would be altogether boring to make on your own.

There was a vague bleep from the feedback speaker and a bored male voice echoed back from sixteen light-years away. "Name and password please." I repeated my name and password yet again - as Saala had apparently not transmitted it and stated my intention of providing an emergency field report.

"Go ahead."

"K-trill population on Zeb-Zeb 3 is in a migratory pattern. Aglaral Basin should be declared off limits to those on foot or with any unreliable form of transportation. Someone should be sent to track the migratory pattern so that we know where these little balls of tentacled fuzz are going and we can stay out of their way. Report ends." I pressed the send button on the console and waited to hear the receiving bleep on the other end, then shut down the green screen.

Time for that shower.

There's nothing like an ion shower to wash away all the aches and pains of a rough day spent rolling around in dried-out coral. Unfortunately, an ion shower was approximately four thousand leagues from here on a crappy little planet called Betathoid Nine and cost half of my monthly salary. So I settled for an unrefreshing sonic shower in the same cramped little cubicle I'd been inhabiting for the past sixteen months. I finished zipping up the clean silver jumpsuit as I passed through the archway onto the navigation deck.

Caleb, my medic / navigation expert and former boyfriend was passed-out asleep in one of the air-cell chairs. Without worrying whether it would upset him, I calmly tipped the chair over backwards, waking him rather rudely.

He came awake with a startled grunt and lay staring at the domed ceiling of the Windwraith for the few seconds before his eyes settled on me. "Hi!" I said cheerfully.

"Christ, Zosia. Most people make some noise or tap you on the shoulder, you've gotta bring the whole ship down." He rubbed the back of his head and frowned at me.

"I was nearly lunch for some K-trills about half an hour ago because you were asleep at the controls again. I screamed for a remote launch boost for the jump pack and didn't get it. Good thing I know how to dry start that piece of crap or I wouldn't be here to interrupt your nap." My voice had risen to a suitably hysterical level before I broke off and I was sure he'd gotten my point.

He managed to look sheepish and I suddenly felt better. "Saala," I called out to the peevish silence. "Warm up the Windwraith, we're going to find out where the K-trills are migrating to and give the Corp a track line to drop someone on when they arrive. Maybe we'll get a bonus out of it."

"Can do Zosia...prepare for first stage ignition in eighteen, seventeen, sixteen..." Caleb scrambled off the floor and into one of the stationary seats at the middle of the nav deck, punching up a visi screen to see where the hell we were going.

"...Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Ignition." The Windwraith shook like a reed in a Eluned dust storm. She was a good ship, but after twelve years of zipping around countless planets and moons, even diamond steel becomes tired.

"Begin second stage ignition and prepare the Windwraith for takeoff, Saala." Caleb shouted around the noise and punched a few more keys on the visi screen, then closed it and his eyes, laying his head back against the seat.

"Complying, Caleb...beginning second stage ignition, retracting footers and base support. Ignition in ten, nine, eight..." I blocked her out; hell, I knew how to count and I was more worried the Windwraith wasn't going to make this short jump.

The 'wraith shivered one last time and the footers retracted into the belly of the ship. I unstrapped myself from the chair and walked to the nav console, punching up a terrain map. "Saala, can you find a K-trill to train the map on? I need to have the computer know what we're looking for."

"One second, Zosia. I'm trying to keep this hunk of junk from falling apart in this atmosphere. We need a major overhaul ya know. When is that requisition going to go through?"

I sighed, there were some times I wished Saala wasn't so self-aware. "I don't know Saala - I'll check with the Corp again tonight once the interference dies down. Can we do this now?"

"Yeah, yeah, hold onto your panties." There was a tinny giggle from the feedback speakers. "Panties...I kill me."

Oy vey.

There was a little blue speck moving very quickly across the console screen, I had the computer focus on it and identify any similar organisms in the area. The screen went completely blue. Okay, well not completely, but damn close. They were all over the valley and moving fast. I punched in an order for the computer to do a head count and a projection of where the little freaks of nature were headed.

There was an answering bleep and a yellow sensor light blipped sections of the terrain map, coughing up a count...approximately 4,541 organisms moving toward the Grinne Sea on the southern most shore of the Silas Plain. Retrieving local terrain map, stand by...

Jeeeesus. Four and a half thousand trill headed for one of the most popular (and populated) sea-side resorts on this drab little planet. I couldn't wait for a tracker from Alaster. "Saala, I need an immediate line to the Corp. Priority One - don't settle for recordings and bypass the secretaries - I gotta talk to the Secretary Director of Migration. We're gonna have a blood-bath otherwise."

"I'm on it Zosia, two seconds..."

There was a feedback whine on the speakers and a prissy little secretary's voice came skittering across the sixteen light-year stretch. "This is Secretary Director Cotovatre's office - may I ask who's calling?"

"This is Lieutenant Zosia Donovan, clearance level six, code name Trixie Two with an emergency situation to report on Zeb-Zeb three. I need to speak with the secretary immediately."

There was a momentary pause that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, "May I ask what the nature of the emergency is?"

"Yeah, you can ask - there's a sea-side resort full of people about to become a smorgasbord for about five thousand K-trills in a bizarre migratory pattern. The sooner you put me through to him - the less you'll have to explain in the executioner's office."

There was a thick gulp across the sonawaves and she said only, "One moment please..."

It didn't even take that long. The secretary's voice boomed across space nice and clear, "This is Secretary Cotovatre, whom am I speaking to again, please?"

"This is Lieutenant Zosia Donovan, Secretary Cotovatre. I have an emergency situation here on Zeb-Zeb three and I would really appreciate your help."

"Of course, Lieutenant Donovan. Tell me what you need and I'll be happy to help." I was surprised, he was actually paying attention.

"I need an emergency beam sent to Port Edana on the Grinne Sea to evacuate the immediate area to about five voanks in diameter." I glanced back at the console screen and saw they had pretty much filled the eastern passage through the Calibor mountain range. "And I would strongly recommend telling them to evacuate along the northern coast, don't try to go inland straight back. The K-trills are coming through the pass as we speak. I have no explanation why they're migrating that way and in such huge numbers - but they're coming and there's no stopping them."

"Please stay on the com, Lieutenant - I'm gonna make that call right now." There was a small static glurp and I found myself on hold. I looked back over my shoulder at Caleb, who sat staring at his visi screen at the blue mass of trills making their way towards the sea.

The feedback speaker chimed cheerily and Secretary Cotovatre's voice rang out, "Lieutenant, I have Governor Bredbeddle of Port Edana on the com with me, I'd like you to tell him what you're seeing, since he obviously does not see the need to move his people out of the resort and to safer ground." Boy did he sound pissed!

"Governor - can you hear me?" I called out, getting the mental image that the Governor was wincing at how loud I was. I wanted to make sure this joker knew I was serious.

"I hear you Lieutenant. What's this nonsense about K-trills you're scaring our people with?"

"It's not nonsense Governor, and if you don't do exactly what I tell you to do, you will be personally responsible for killing a lot of voting citizens. You've got nearly five thousand migrating K-trills coming straight at you. I made the mistake of dropping into the middle of them about ten-sun this morning and nearly didn't make it back. I don't want some little tow-headed tot becoming a snack for one of these things and you can put money on the fact his or her parents are not going to happy with you if that happens. You get my meaning?"

The Governor cleared his throat, "I understand you all too clearly, Lieutenant." He made my rank a sneer. "I also know you're speaking to one of your superiors in a tone of voice not in keeping with your status."

I didn't even have to try to defend myself, the Secretary jumped in ahead of me, "The Lieutenant just became a Captian - do you want to argue with her now?" The impromptu promotion shocked me just as much as it obviously did the Governor - since I now outranked him.

"I didn't mean to argue with her point - she is obviously trying to assist me in solving a difficult situation. But, we're a little strapped for time and resources - not to mention the manpower it will take to help keep some degree of sanity in an evacuation," the Governor whined.

I interrupted him, "Governor, with all due respect - you don't have time to worry whether this evacuation is going to be sane or orderly. Just get those people out of there. And don't allow them to go inland - they need to go north up the coast and don't stop until they're through the Trefor Call. The K-trills won't follow that far - they'll need to stay near the beach in order to eat. And I can guarantee you they're going to be more worried about finding their way to the water and food before they'll worry about chasing your inhabitants too far. Now, what do you need from me? I'm about..." I glanced at Caleb and he held up six fingers, "...six voanks away from you."

The Governor sighed, "I think you've done enough, Captian Donovan and I thank you for the warning. You've probably saved a lot of lives. But if you'd like to help organize the evacuation, we could sure use the help." There was defeat and resignation in his voice, but he knew it was useless to waste all that energy being a pain in the ass with me.

"Will do, Governor. Thank you for your patience." I heard the Governor sign off and the Secretary's voice echoed back.

"Captian Donovan?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Good job - I'll stay on the com with you until you reach Port Edana. Can you transmit some of the images you're seeing so I know what you're looking at?"

"Yes, sir...just pass your transmit code to Saala and she'll beam them back." There was a momentary pause.

"I have the coordinates, Zosia...beginning transmission."

"My God." The Secretary's voice was just this side of shocked. "Don't tell me that blue mass is the trills."

I nodded mutely into the com, "That's them, sir. I was down in the Aglaral Basin this morning, checking my coral samples and would have gotten chewed if my jump pack hadn't been operational. Guess I found out the hard way. But I had no readings yesterday to indicate any movement. I'm at a loss on an explanation for this migration."

"I'll do some quick scans of the hydration levels on the planet - it's the only explanation I can think of... Yeah, there we are..." he sounded depressed. "...what a mess. Apparently that hydration contract the Dnias Corporation took out for Zeb-Zeb three just isn't going as quickly as they hoped. The trills are probably migrating because the hydrient levels in their region are close to twenty-two percent and falling. They have to have a level of at least seventy-eight percent or higher to be able to live in an area. Right now the only area like that is Port Edana. Shit, if I'd known the situation was this bad before, there'd be more contracts. How close to Edana are you now?"

I looked back at Caleb, "One and a bit - we'll be there in less than ten minutes."

Saala bleeped the green screen on the nav console with a discreet little message, "Would you ask about that requisition for an upgrade?"

Ah, what the hell, they owed me one, right? "Mr. Secretary?"

"Yes, Captain? What's wrong..." The poor guy sounded distressed and a little more than upset with himself.

"I know this probably isn't the best time to ask about it, but it's been on my mind. I sent in an upgrade requisition not too long ago and was hoping you might be able to check on it for me. My Saala system is being a pain in the butt about it." There was a soft laugh on the other end of the com.

"Sure, Captain - I'll have my secretary check on it right now for you and give your Saala an answer." "Thank you, sir. We're closing in on Port Edana now, Secretary. I'm going to have to sign off. Thank you very much for your help - I'll be in touch."

"You're very welcome, Captain Donovan. I'll make sure that requisition goes through for you and the promotion stands. You've more than earned it. I'll talk to you soon, if you have any problems with the evacuation or you need to contact me for anything else - just holler. Best of luck." There was a click and the com went dead.

Nice to know there are some people in the higher-ups that will help when called on. I'd have to file him away in my good-book for later reference. Right now all my attention was focused on finding a place to set the Windwraith down where it wasn't going to be in the middle of the trills or overrun by people frantic to get up the coast.

Caleb and I arrived in Port Edana amidst a flurry of activity and masses of people. Thankfully this wasn't the tourist season, otherwise this would have been a hell of a lot worse. It was like watching a wave of Calibor Elk running from a Tynum Tiger. They were scared, but not entirely brainless. They managed to keep from trampling each other; transports were filled to overflowing and well over their max capacity - but if it could get off the ground - it was okay with me.

Once most of the visiting population was safely off-migrating-site, I called Saala to bring the Windwraith in and set up some observation scopes. The people were going to see something that may not happen again for several decades - a full blown K-trill migration. And now that they were safely out of harm's way, they could enjoy it. The children, in particular, got a kick out of watching these little eight-armed dust bunnies roll across the decks and porches, onto the beaches and into the water. They splashed and played in the surf like children themselves, finding sand fleas and small filter-shrimp to snack on before wandering out into the deep for something more substantial.

I made sure Saala recorded everything, of course. I was told many months later it made a wonderful study film for new students and even the old professors - who had never seen anything like it. It also helped my friend the Secretary with his case to obtain more hydration contracts on Xeabxeb III. I was almost sad to see the huge orange ball fade into the distance behind the Windwraith's thrusters as we took off to have the 'wraith and Saala upgraded and overhauled. The Secretary had been as good as his word and pushed the requisition through.

Little did I know how important that upgrade was going to be by the time I got to Trahaearn, Sian Eight's second moon. Did you know that moarcats can grow their tails back when they're shot off by a handblaster?

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