Overshadowed
by Sergio
“ente per ente” Palumbo
Edited by Michele Dutcher
A Mare Inebrium story
Mare Inebrium Universe created by Dan
Hollifield
The evening clouds began drawing peculiar trails across the sun. A long
reddish starship, three times the size of a skyscraper, landed near the
drop site in the distance. Then, in a very short time, it was gone. The
next three space vessels that followed were, at least, three times as
large as the first.
Within moments the street ahead cleared, creating an interesting
interplay of shapes and empty space. This allowed him to focus on the
overall appearance of the area, instead of getting caught up too much
on a single detailed portion of his surroundings. And there it was: The
Mare Inebrium. The well-known Space Bar was located inside a
one-hundred-story building near the Spaceport field, its tower standing
near the Old City and the Bazaar. The venue was certainly a noteworthy,
and famous, sight here on planet Bethdish, indeed. There was also a
restaurant on the 100th floor, open to the public, though that wasn’t
his destination for tonight.
And he needed that idea to be okay… One way around the problem.
A long pair of hairy, brilliant electric-blue legs, taller than
him and almost half the height of the very tall Fhltls performers, that
were well-known in the area – who commonly wore tiny shoes made of wood
- came out of a nearby alley, hurtled past him, followed by two other
similar creatures. These were Vlebvs from the Dljwt system, located
many light-years from here, and Imranovich Oumanoff immediately
recognized them for what they were. Their bulbous greenish shape, with
a flat face and long, skinny black nose that appeared on top of those
legs made their traits unmistakable, as no one would ever forget about
such unbelievably strange aliens once spotted.
As for the human, he hadn’t had the chance to see one of those in
person before, as he had only watched them on holo-magazines or in the
media. But seeing one of them before your eyes was a moment to be
treasured. He had read years ago that the common habitat on their
planet was mainly plains and open places, but he had never been there.
After all, his job didn’t frequently bring him to a world like that
where there weren’t ancient ruins, or site excavations, to be studied.
‘They’re certainly not local,’ the man thought without speaking. These
creatures were the second very unusual alien beings - after the showy
Ethiralz from a few minutes ago, that were endowed with transparent
bodies - he had seen since he had started walking towards the Space
Bar. This clearly indicated that he would soon be surrounded by the
most incredible creatures in this part of the galaxy. This diversity
was one of the draws for any customer, or regular, who entered that
crowded venue, guaranteeing that no visitor would want to miss the
chance while staying on this world, be it during the time required to
wait for their next spaceflight or for a few free days out of the
ordinary from their common occupations.
The street entrance was in the middle of the North wall, and
the 49-year-old, gray-haired man descended the three steps from the
doorway to the floor. Once he had removed his thin overcoat, he asked
for the person he wanted to talk to, and waited only a few minutes
before he arrived. Then, the well-known bartender stood there before
the man, very average-looking, with short dark hair, dressed in his
typical medium-brown colored clothes.
“I’m glad to see you again,” Max said, with a pleasant smile,
his eyes widening, while making his way towards the human customer. The
two started walking around the ground floor of the Mare Inebrium, the
main room being around 100 feet wide, and was full of many different
kinds of aliens who wore varied clothes, many having modern devices in
their ears – that in some cases were six or more. Most of the aliens
sat at tables, while others drunkenly danced with all of their many
hands and their elongated noses raised to the sky.
One thing you immediately could see was that the chairs were adjusted
to suit a wide range of species, which was a predictable accommodation
given the number of different customers that came here, ambassadors
included, from different planets, with their varied heights and sizes,
and their special needs. There were other smaller rooms with varying
themes adjoining the main room along the east and west walls,
revivified with costly dark hardwood, and a few were seated on an upper
floor. Some of the rooms seemed to be full of pieces of wrecked
architectural elements and large appliances of unknown frivolity,
strangely assembled from the point of view of an Earthling like him.
But such objects, and the density of gas or dust available inside
there, appeared to be appropriate for the aliens who chose these rooms
to have an entertaining time while drinking and eating until day, or
night, came in the end. It was as if many years of grayness had made
such people desperate for forbidden or strange things, or maybe it was
merely the excitement of being on vacation on a different world than
their home planet.
As Imranovich had told himself more than once, everything that happened
in this bar went way beyond common sense, and he was referring to the
common sense of several alien species, anyway.
After walking for a short distance on that same floor -
leaving behind a group of weird female humans wearing provocative
traditional maid’s costumes, who had appeared near his table with gray
whisky already in hand - the man was let into a special empty room by
the bartender, and the lights turned on automatically as they went
inside.
‘Any time now,’ Imranovich thought without saying a thing. ‘As every other time…’
In the middle of the room stood a small table with a lone chair
in front of it. This wasn’t a place meant to have more than one guest
sitting at a time, its purpose being to not allow others in.
“May I leave you here alone, as usual, from this point on?” Max asked the customer.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“We have these rooms, here at our Space Bar, that are separated
from the other customers to please people like you: customers that have
some special needs, so to say…but you’re already aware of this.”
“I know that and I appreciate it,” Imranovich said in a low
tone as he slowly tidied one of his gray curls. With a strange look, he
stared at the other.
“You can place your orders through that machine at the table, but you know that as well.”
“I’ve been here before, obviously. Thanks for setting all this
up,” the man replied before the bartender took his leave. Max - who
always took care of the needs of that usually silent customer in person
- moved to the door and without a word he eventually left.
‘Constant care,’ the bartender thought as he walked along on the way back to his office. ‘This is what is required with certain customers…’
He had wondered once, the first time that gray-haired man had come to
his Space Bar, what he was looking for here. But he was just one of
many regulars who came to this place and commonly asked for the most
unbelievable things, including costly and uncommon drinks, so his
questions would need to go unanswered as he didn’t have enough free
time for all that. ‘Maybe it’s a little illusion of his, or he just needs to stay all alone for some time there, who knows,’ Max thought. ‘Or
maybe he will simply begin running around in circles as he stays inside
that room. After all, I’ve seen much stranger things than this inside
these walls, and that man usually doesn’t cause any trouble.’ The bartender, soon moved away from the room as he began thinking of his next important duty for that night.
Inside the room, Imranovic remained alone, in silence, thinking to himself: ‘Restday. This is what today is supposed to be for’.
The machine in front of him seemed to come to life with all its data
and the many possible choices to be made once he put his hands on the
table. Being from an Old Russian family on Earth - though most of its
history had been lost across the previous centuries, its hometown known
as Samara in that long-gone country where they had probably been living
before moving abroad - he thought about trying all sorts of pickles,
which would be perfect with the strong Vodka he wanted to choose. He
wondered about ordering pelmeni
(meat dumplings), traditionally made in vast quantities in the coldest
lands and then kept through the winter. These were also, surprisingly,
pretty popular in this Space Bar as well. Who knows, maybe it pleased
the tastes of some carnivorous human-like aliens, or possibly they were
appreciated by a completely different species. He was planning on
ordering a grilled shashlyk
made of lamb, but he saw that, differently from the last time he had
stayed here, there wasn’t a description of that dish nor the
possibility of a choice of it, which meant that it wasn’t available, at
least at the moment.
Then, his eyes stared at the listing for Vodka, straight out
of the freezer, that he ordered when the machine rang, and it
immediately appeared on his table. He really thought that no other
single product from old Russia might sum up its cultural, geographical,
and historical origins in quite the same way. It seemed to be a direct
reflection of the eagerness of most of its people for constant
drunkenness, actually. There had also been famous people well-versed in
the liquors’ field who were quoted as saying that Russian Vodka - world
equivalent of the most-renowned French wines, and certainly that very
costly bottle of Imperial Collection Super Premium Vodka ™ in
particular - was one of the best liquors ever produced. It had been
distilled three times, being filtered through charcoal to have the
impurities completely removed, though not everyone could afford such a
thing. Even the simple reddish box that contained that peculiar flask
adorned with gold and crystals was noteworthy. Moreover, the colorless
and odorless liquid – though the true Vodka-lovers like him were
capable, of course, of tasting its differing notes of sweetness -
happened to be enough to light a very powerful fire in the coldest of
human hearts, and it was also considered a real ‘man’s drink’. On
second thought, actually, Imranovich considered that such liquor was
usually reputed to be a Russian invention, but it might have been
developed, in reality, in another old country of Earth; Poland, where
it was known as wodka, the name referring to medicinal products in the
medieval period. He had also heard the name itself came from the Slavic
term for water, Voda. He was certain he had read it somewhere, years
ago.
This would be the first glass of what was to become a night of heavy
drinking, with great food which he would eat until he was
satisfied…time permitting.
Anyways, as it frequently happened to him, his recollections
went back to what had happened long ago, and he saw before his eyes,
again, what he had undergone that day. Because he could never forget
about it, undoubtedly!
*****
Years before today’s events, a much younger Imranovich
had been very busy, and in deep trouble, within a sector of space very
distant from this one. Being a member of a group of seasoned
Space-Archaeologists, the man had set off into the far reaches of the
firmament called the Dark Unknown in their ship, the Lonely Wayfarer.
“There are jobs much easier than this,” was a common saying among him
and his crewmates, “but no one else can make bigger breakthroughs than
we can, far surpassing others who work in our field, discovering the
past! Well, certainly scientists might find and create new things: new
particles, new machines and new technologies in the future, but for a
better comprehension of the past history, some low tech devices of a
time gone by and the likes, we are the best indeed!”
In the course of their expedition, after exploring several
planets, while retrieving some important and valuable remains of two
lost alien civilizations, they had run into the iced world of Khmeb
orbiting the local star Zmay – an old Serbian word that referred to
dragons, actually. Less massive gaseous bodies that emitted radiation
like that were redder and fainter than the Sun of the Earthlings and
stayed on the main sequence longer. This clearly indicated, the same as
all the data from their instruments corroborated, that it was an
ancient star. That planet’s continents, with its ruins and fascinating
secrets, had remained silent and lifeless for several centuries. The
archeologists had kept watching the planet’s starry sky and had
witnessed three thin rings in space with characteristic radial shadows
called ‘spokes’ as projected on their shape when viewed at low angles,
that were reputed to be particles held above the rings themselves by
electrostatic forces, similar to rings that were featured in the
well-known Saturn’s B RING and orbiting other smaller gas planets
outside Sol’s planetary system.
Things had silently remained that way until their vessel had appeared
as a vivid dot in the upper atmospheric layers before becoming larger
and larger as their planned landing course brought them nearer to its
surface. The approach maneuver didn’t go as expected, however, because
of some malfunctioning instrumentation aboard, which meant the starship
arrived on the surface below with unusual, and unwanted, speed. This
had led to a disaster as its lower portion hit the pointed rocks
situated not far from the landing site of their choice which was missed
by about 60 miles. An alien place that had remained so calm, and
completely dead, for so long had been suddenly disturbed, and wildly
shaken by their surprising coming exactly as if it had been an
unwelcomed asteroid that had noisily fallen from space to bring
destruction to the surface.
Most of the crew, and their food provisions, were lost during
that disastrous attempt to land safely, but two injured survivors
managed to send a signal from the main control room before the flames
enveloped the craft, leading to the spaceship’s almost complete
destruction. Though there were survivors, they knew there were not many
possibilities for them to leave that world, or be found before it was
too late, as their only way to survive – once the oxygen tanks were
emptied and the breathing systems aboard were stopped, which was going
to happen soon - was their spacesuits, that, luckily, had been designed
to let them stay protected both within the remains of their vessel and
also in the open for about a few days days. Maybe even longer… Such
protective equipment was part of what had been specially built for
Space-Archaeologists like them who usually planned on working on alien
planets for long and exhausting hours in the most hostile of
environments.
Some of them wanted to stay inside the Lonely Wayfarer as long
as possible, but the release of radiation from a damaged portion of the
ship’s engine section settled the matter for all of them, forcing them
to move away immediately, or die sooner than imagined.
Imranovich could still see before his eyes the sadness of the
moments they had left behind what was still intact of their spacecraft,
knowing they had no other choice. He remembered the sensation of
desperation and impeding death which they all felt inside as their
steps took them slowly away, further and further from the metallic
bulwark of the Lonely Wayfarer. Their bodies were well wrapped in their
spacesuits which, in turn, had large cloaks attached, made of
super-protective fabrics, that were meant to prevent their metallic
structure from becoming too dirty, or badly damaged because of the
abrasion and the continuous scratching due to the strong dusty winds
that constantly beset the planet’s surface.
The strength of the wind could be plainly numbered among the many
adversities of this alien environment. They had seen such data on the
holo-screen of their computers while still in space, but the force of
the wind would soon become something overpowering if you had to face
such gusts night and day in the open field with no place to stay
shielded from its power. While they hiked away from the ship, the
expectation of finding valuable artifacts in the still-to-be-opened
excavation sites on Khmeb – those they had marked on their holo-maps
before the ill-fated descent course to the planet - had been removed
from their worried minds. They were no longer interested in the
importance of those very ancient ruins - and the weariness while
walking in the open airless terrain soon began to get the better of the
six of them.
How could it be different?
They knew very well they had started a journey through the
alien lifeless ground of Khmeb that wouldn’t take them very far, and
the obvious conclusion of their last attempts to remain alive would
probably be a sad demise. However, thanks to their equipment and the
technology that still made them feel normal, they preferred to keep
death away, or in the distance, the longer the better.
Imranovich had taught survival skills for many years, during
the brief course all Space-Archaeologists had to take before their
first journeys into space to an alien excavation site. He had learned
that four elements had to be in place for a survival situation to have
the chance of a good outcome: knowledge, ability, the will to survive,
and luck. Also necessary were the required provisions, like food and
water, that humans needed, along with proper clothes and shelter. Well,
food provisions were exactly what they lacked at present as what they
had been able to take with them from their vessel would last, in their
best hopes, until next week. After that, they would be relying only on
water and nothing more. Which probably wouldn’t be enough to keep them
alive, waiting for help to come, if ever.
While knowledge and ability to survive could be learned, and
Imranovich was well aware of this, the will to do so was connected to a
man’s personal survival mechanism, and no one knew - before it came to
that - if he really could master it. Not until he was put to the test.
For example, people who were perfectly trained and well-equipped gave
up hope in survivable conditions, unexpectedly, while others, who were
less well-prepared and ill-equipped, survived because they simply
refused to give up. But it wasn’t his will to survive, or that of his
fellows, that was the real matter under those terrible circumstances,
as food couldn’t be bought nor found anywhere on that world, and there
was no prey to be hunted nor eaten, of course. And, though their
personal backpack could get breathable air which was continuously
circulating in their exo-system – thus sustaining them for a month - it
wasn’t the only thing they needed. As cadavers didn’t require air.
More than that, the peculiar icy surface of that alien planet
was impossible to be turned into water that a man could drink because
of the poisonous substances it contained, minerals that the filters
they had in their spacesuits would ever be able to purify. To produce
useful water, they would need a better and much larger device, like the
filters they had left behind. Of course those were all destroyed now,
burned as if they were of no use anymore, in the remains of their
starship when they had moved away from it.
But water, for now, wasn’t their main problem. In an sad way,
Frank Ewall, the eldest of the crewmembers who had survived and the
tall leader of their expedition, pointed out that their remains might
be able to swim in the drinkable liquid that would still be available
to them also once they were already dead in their spacesuits, because
of their lack of food. Probably, if a man’s face wasn’t inside his
helmet at that time - Imranovich knew for a fact - he would make a wide
grin while stroking his beard, but he simply couldn’t even try that,
given the circumstances. And he didn’t know if his facial features
would ever come out of his spacesuit again.
It was a sad fact that the bald Ewall himself died first, and
not because of his food provisions running out, but simply as a
consequence of a bad fall down a steep slope that, in an unexpected
way, irreparably damaged his personal exo-system. The loss of the air
which was ejected outside was too fast to be stopped or sealed on time,
nor could such problem be repaired by means of the few tools they had
with them.
Pilot Harry Yudley and the blonde-haired Glintovl were the next ones to
have their names listed in the electronic book of the crew’s casualties
in his wrist device. The death of the female academician left him
particularly stricken as he had started to develop a personal
relationship with that 47-year-old woman during their journey to this
planet. Glintovl was the first person he had felt close to after his
previous wife had passed away three years before. Which meant that
there were only three of them left on the surface. Two days later there
were only two survivors left, as the young researcher Klertewf died
because of a malfunction with his spacesuit, which added to the sad
thoughts and worries that they all – well, the two of them who were
still alive… - had on their minds.
Now it was up to Imranovich himself and the second pilot James
Wazon to try to remain safe and sound, and on their feet, in that
incredibly challenging environment of the alien world for as long as
they could. It was not just due to luck that, just eight days later,
only Imranovich found himself still on this side of the grave, anyway.
The two men had continued walking for almost two hours through an icy
plain full of rocks, while attempting to hide from the worst gusts that
pounded the surface. When they finally got to ground that was even more
treacherous, it was the Space-Archaeologist’s knowledge of rocks that
allowed him to follow the safest way. However, the other man, being a
pilot, was more accustomed to space routes and orbiting courses than to
the detail of the terrain, and he chose the wrong path that brought him
below an icy cliff from which there happened to be no way out.
It was of no help that he had stayed on top of the place where
Wazon lay a hundred feet below, continuing to communicate with his poor
crewmate for almost an hour. Wazon told him that he had broken his
back, and that the blood he was losing inside his spacesuit came out
faster than his exo-system could overcome. Perhaps surgery could have
saved him, but they had nothing like that at present. So, it was only a
matter of time, and when Wazon stopped talking, Imranovich knew that he
had died.
The next two days went by very slowly, and gusts that
continuously blew through that frightful area, seemed like many small
predators that came from the sky to attack anyone who would try to
escape, night and day. Only those three star-like rings that were
visible above his head, with their brilliancy, turned nighttime into
something less cold, more bearable and heart-warming as that sight gave
him some comfort. They brought to him the recollections of how vivid
those features had first appeared when their starship had approached
this planet from space so many days ago. Though, it was a short-termed
thought. “It will not last for long…” he kept telling himself as his
tiredness made every step even more painful, more pointless, given the
fact he knew that the end would come soon, no matter what he hoped or
tried of course. ‘I’m certain I’ll be dead in the next few hours,’ he finally told himself.
This was exactly why, as the man imagined that his demise was not far,
he chose to set his course towards the nearest ruins in the area – the
same ones they had come here to study, before the disaster left them
hopeless and without any chance left. He believed he could cower down
there, among those low walls and broken stones that housed a small
statue with its dark surface almost completely removed from long
centuries of being blasted by the brutal wind. Little was standing
where some of the buildings had once been located, as he silently
waited to live out his last minutes while taking cover from the
unending storm.
His eyes had long admired the ancient rectangular stone
platform, with stepped sides, which might have once been a focus of
court rituals. Perhaps it had been used in ceremonies when the
prehistoric species that had once lived here built such a site. He also
considered that the place reminded him of Eastern Polynesian temples
found on the home planet all Earthlings were from. Those pyramids had
been built long before humans started to spread through space, and
Mankind had almost forgotten about the world where their civilization
had evolved in the past. Who knew how many interesting stone tools,
unbelievable vases or body remains might be found below the iced
terrain if only they had been given the time to start their
excavations. He wished they still had the machinery they had loaded on
their starship but it was now lost. Also, it was too late for such
considerations. Maybe one day somebody else would come here and do the
job that they were unable to begin on this expedition, of course. It
was impossible to make predictions about that.
It was at that moment, before he was able to get to the point
he had selected as his possible burial ground, that Imranovich wasn’t
as attentive as he needed to be. He found himself falling down a slope
he hadn’t really seen until that moment, and what would probably follow
was well known to him.
Glittering particles of ice swirled around his face and surrounded his
spacesuit from all sides, cutting down his visibility for a while. At
least, he thought, his exo-system didn’t report any fatal wounds yet,
and there were no other problems with his body. It was dark in the
square of the visor of his helmet, just him and the hole in the alien
ground and that dust floating outside.
Then something hit his senses. Something new and unexpected.
Seven colorful shades, some vivid hues between yellow and blue
Imranovich hadn’t seen in years. From where he was standing, colors
like these might as well not be real from a certain point of view. The
colors seemed to dance in the open, playing with the dust he had fallen
into.
At first, they appeared to be a huge and hideous mixture of
waves and feeble vapor. After a few seconds they took on the look of
many tall, creature-like figures that stood before him now, becoming
more and more visible. You might think they were ghosts that had
decided to reveal themselves, allowing others see them in that
forgotten site. Perhaps these were shadows from a past alien
civilization that was now extinct, or possibly they merely came from
his fancy, products of his tired mind. Had the fall been that bad, or
had he hit the inside of his helmet too hard and was now suffering from
a concussion? He didn’t remember the fall being that bad!
Then, the shapes became better defined, and they now looked
like colorful, tall specters in that silent, wild alien scenery. He was
still also surrounded by the dust particles his spacesuit had
unwillingly thrown into the sky and he was in the mist of those unknown
ruins which were still to be dated by human technology. What a scary
sight, for these spirits were an unexpected unearthly occurrence!
The hairs on every inch of Imranovich’s body seemed to be
electrified and bristled immediately. What were these figures? Were
they merely a result of his tiredness, or were they simply a trick of
the eye? If he was in the open, breathing air and with no need for a
protection for himself, certainly he would have thought that those
images were driven by visual factors mainly, perhaps with some other
environmental influences. He was a scientist after all, he believed in
facts above all. But he wasn’t in touch with the exterior of his
spacesuit, and his skin, the eyes and his brain were perfectly secluded
from the outside terrain. He was shielded against the changes in air
temperature and the whole airless scenery of the alien world that
surrounded him.
Moreover, the small video display on the corner of his visor
that indicated data shot by the infrared camera and the footage of the
camcorder connected to his helmet didn’t show anything. It was exactly
as if there were no strange creatures to be brought to the attention of
the viewer.
That really had been an unforgettable sight! And there was more to come.
*****
As he eventually began to sober-up, after spending four
hours in that room alone at the Space Bar, eating food and many other
sweets, the still confused Imranovich began feeling those strange
sensations again. This was the same way he felt as he did on that day,
long ago, through the dust that was all around the visor of his helmet.
His disorientation was a fact, though not unexpected. The few hours he
had spent in that room had left him calm and satisfied. And now his
eyes started detecting a singular presence. Then the others appeared.
All those figures standing before him looked like strange clouds of
varied-colored gases. The shades of their long transparent hair were
changing by the second, while their feeble skin glowed softly as if
their presence was continuously exciting the air around them. They also
had huge, unusual and awe-inspiring staring eyes. Then, there were
those curl-like spikes extending from the lower portion of their weird
body.
These were the same alien ghosts he had stumbled into while he
was on planet Khmeb. Or had they chosen him, a lonely dying human, to
reveal themselves as he was waiting that day, for his death to soon
come? Why him? And why at that time? Why hadn’t they appeared to his fellow crewmates who had passed away on that same icy world before it was his turn?
They didn’t speak, preferring to only watch him now. Which was good. Of
course, nobody else could see them. This was because of two
circumstances: in the first place it was only him in that room at
present; and the second reason was due to the fact that no known
SuperHD holo-camera was able to detect their figures, at least as far
as he knew. And the man had done his research by now, so he was certain
about the history of their culture, now long gone. These beings were
the same ones he discovered during that first encounter among the
ruined buildings of those lost temples from Khmeb’s ancient past, when
an intelligent alien species had ruled over the rocky surface of the
planet.
They had followed him since the day he had been healed, and
since the time Imranovich had left that planet. They were a constant
presence that came along with him wherever he went, never leaving him.
They kept staring at him. And they knew.
At times, some of them became feebler, or almost disappeared,
briefly, as if the source of the energy that kept them in this world
was cut off. It was almost the same as the way the electrical current
stopped in the ancient light bulbs of the first industrial era, when
they were turned off. He had never understood how it happened, or the
reason for it. However, he had long since come to a conclusion, a deep
and sad idea which had started slowly forming in his mind as soon as he
had set his foot on the vessel that luckily had arrived to save him
just in time, taking him away from Khmeb.
The man considered in silence, ‘The famous scientist from old
Earth, Professor Einstein, proved that all the energy in the universe
is constant and can neither be created nor destroyed. So what happened
to that energy when people died? And what happened to aliens when they
passed away, as well?’
Many people had seen ghostly appearances, or thought they had,
in many places, even on old Earth since the birth of Mankind. What
about such sights? The existence of ghosts was a way of explaining
these experiences. But he had never believed in those reports until
that day had come on that forgotten iced world situated around that
ancient star called Zmay.
That day, the day he imagined he would die, he wished he had
enhanced senses and had been better prepared, with experience gained
through drills. He wished he had been one of the Space Footsloggers who
trained in the Martian Army. This would have helped his body to survive
wounds like those that he was afraid he could feel because of that
terrible fall. He had also wondered about the blood that might soon
fill the spacesuit that protected him from the icy climate of that
alien environment. The man also wished he could make himself believe
that everything would be all right at the end of the day. But
Imranovich was just was a human Space-Archaeologist, and there wasn’t
much training he could draw upon to help him survive that day.
It was those creatures alone that had kept him alive.
Otherwise, he would have died a few hours after he got to those ruins.
And they had done it for the long and cold following days, for reasons
unknown to Imranovich at that time, until a starship with other humans
had finally arrived on that same planet. They had followed a signal
sent into space weeks before by the two injured survivors of the
control room, now long dead. That message has just been sent before
that part of their vessel was engulfed in flames.
The crewmen of the starship Homesteader who had come to help
and had landed on the icy Khmeb, hadn't been so lucky. Not like the
Space-Archaeologist anyway. But Imranovich preferred to keep the
details of what happened aboard later to himself. He had his reasons to
behave that way, of course.
What the man remembered clearly, and he liked to keep in his
mind, was that on that occasion, within a few minutes he thought that –
in the common viewpoint on holo-newspapers and the media of the Solar
System - he was presumably going to become just another academician
from Earth who had disappeared on an alien world while putting a bold
face on exploring. He thought he might eventually be seen as one more
scientist lost while studying a site, among crumbling and unsafe ruins
of an ancient civilization that had long gone, being very ancient when
Mankind was just taking their first steps on prehistoric Earth.
But, contrary to his worst fears, on that day, Imranovich had made it.
Yes, he had survived, though unexpectedly, even to himself.
And then he had to accomplish other difficult tasks to be alive, and
safe. Those were the things you must do just to remain alive, he
considered with a pensive look.
But the sight of those ghosts he had seen in the same room
near his table at the Mare Inebrium made the man think that it was time
to go. It was preferable to pay the bill, retrieve his overcoat, take
leave of the well-spoken bartender named Max and immediately exit that
place, leaving quickly, the sooner the better.
*****
As Imranovich left the famous venue, he took a
middle-of-the-night walk through the empty street. Probably Imranovich
thought that it might help him see his situation more clearly.
‘Fresh air, and a reinvigorated mind, that is what I need now,’
he considered. And as his thoughts began to take him elsewhere, it was
at that moment his eyes fell on a tall, slender eight-handed alien from
Dlekthk that wore a yellowish garment from his own world. This wasn’t
what he wanted to see. How deeply he would have preferred that the
street was completely empty, and it would have certainly been better
for him if such a place had remained that way for a while.
But this was the busy world of Bethdish and he was near its
important spaceport. Most of the streets near the transportation area
were usually crowded by many members of many varied alien species, so
how could he think it would be different from that? After all, the man
knew he couldn’t always live on a desert planet, alone, or stay far
away from anybody else, busy doing exacations. Much to his regret.
Then the voices he knew so well began filling his head in that
very strong manner he had been accustomed to since he had first set his
foot on the vessel that had saved him from the icy Khmeb years ago.
This was always what happened when he stumbled into anybody else in the
open ground, with no other person – human or alien – around. Though
briefly, this was when those alien ghosts made their demands known.
Their orders had to be followed, undoubtedly. Now, when nobody else
could look at what he might be doing.
‘We helped you, that day, by
helping you survive the fall while you were looking for shelter in that
site. We healed you from your deadly wounds,’
the first voice said in Imranovich’s mind. This insistent tone came
from the ghastly shape of the alien called KKl-ooo, or so he had told
the man on Khmeb – whose real name had once been EEE-WX. He had died
long ago, before that planet was turned into an icy world without any
creature living upon it.
‘You owe us a favor, and you
always will. We found each other that day, and this was for our common
good. You know what must be done,’ added the second shape of the alien next to the first one, that who was called XXl-uuu.
‘Do it! We can’t directly harm living beings or kill them, but we need
to feed on those bodies once they die. The remains of a life that had
just been put to an end were usually so tasty, and we were around for
so long, on the empty world of ours, with nothing to get new energy
from. But we will become strong again, after this tasty meal of today.
And we’ll continue to live out our unearthly lives,’ the third one, called WWj-iii, said in his very low tone that could reach the farthest recesses of the man’s mind.
‘Yes, you came to us at that site, among those ruins from our lost
civilization, that day, and you were most welcomed. We didn’t know how
much longer we could have maintained our unearthly shape, the same as a
living being of your human species can’t stay in one piece forever
without eating, because it had been centuries since the last time we
had taken energy from a real body. But you came and we saved you. It
was when we thought we would be turned into nothing within a few
decades, as the vaporous remains of our souls were being weakened day
by day in an unrestrainable decay that we had no way of stopping. In
return, you agreed to do things for us. And you know what you have done
all these years,’ KKl-ooo stared at him.
‘Yes, you well know. Only you can accomplish this for us. You have the
duty to give us a newly killed victim we now can feed on,’ the third one demanded, making his voice heard again in Imranovich’s head now.
‘You’re our pawn, and our retainer. The human we protected, and healed,
so we could have you at our service later. You’ve already done this
before, on all the planets you have visited, since the day you were
saved, starting with those humans who helped you and transported you
off our icy world. What were their names? Rouleau, Archult, Iglert…Who
came next? Wasn’t their captain, Brett Utchirt, the first one you
pierced using your new blade in his room, the first night when you got
to talk about your difficult days on icy Khmeb? This only added more
uneasiness to that confused crew that wasn’t expecting a murder from
someone like you. And you remember what happened to them all - all
those men and women who were your first victims, the first bodies we
eagerly fed on after so long. Now replenish our unearthly energies and
let us get more strength so we can continue our journey with you,’ WWj-iii insisted for a second time.
‘This is what your life is meant for, and you must be thankful to us
for that, such as it is. This is also how you’ll keep getting our help
to sustain your life until the next time comes. This killing today will
give us the power to support your ill body over the days to come,’ the second alien made it clear.
Imranovich nodded, well aware of what he had to do, after all. He
gestured to the tall alien passer-by from Dlekthk that walked nearby to
make the stranger look at him and answer a stupid request, while the
human prepared to hit him with the electronic blade he always hid in
his clothes. Once he had done that, the poor victim would become a
lonely corpse, empty of his life energies, which were eaten by the
ghosts that followed him everywhere. But having been fed, eventually
those voices would move away from his mind. At least for a few weeks,
until the next moment they urged him to kill again, of course.
Was this alien’s life-energy enough to fill them up, or might they want
the life energies of somebody else, to be even more satisfied, before
the end of the month? When you had unearthly stomachs the size of those
alien ghosts, you could never know for certain.
“Anyway, I can’t get my hopes up,” he said, and kept walking
along in the night once his cruel duty was done. The death of somebody,
and the energy output that came out from his body, was what happened to
be the most valuable thing to those ancient creatures. Well, this was
nothing he could really appreciate deep in his heart, of course, but it
was an agreement that had kept him alive so far.
His eyes closed, as much to keep his mind out the world as from the
fatigue of a day’s work. The man knew he had to find something new to
occupy his thoughts, because he didn’t know when the next call would
come, or where it might happen anyway.
THE END
© 2021 Sergio “ente per ente” Palumbo
Bio: Sergio “ente per ente” Palumbo s an Italian
public servant who graduated from Law School working in the public real
estate branch.
He is also a co-Editor, together with Mrs. Michele DUTCHER, of the new
Steampunk Anthology “Steam-powered Dream Engines”, published in march
2018 by Rogue Planet Press, an Imprint of British Horrified Press, and
of the new Fantasy/Sci-Fi Anthology “Fantastical Savannahs and
Jungles”, published in march 2019 by the same Publisher. The subsequent
book edited by him, together with Mrs. Michele DUTCHER, is the new
Sci-Fi Anthology “Xenobiology – Stranger Creatures”, published in
september 2020 by Rogue Planet Press, an Imprint of British Horrified
Press. In 2021 he edited, along with Mrs. Michele DUTCHER and Mr.
Curtis MAGNES as co-editor, the new Horror/Sci-Fi/Fantasy Anthology
titled “Bleakest Towers”, published by Rogue Planet Press.
The first Historical/Horror screenplay written by him, titled “Tophet-
An Ancient Evil”, completed in 2018, won an Honorable Mention Award at
The 2018 International Horror Hotel Award - script Competition held in
Richfield, Ohio. Sergio's other publishing credits are too numerous to
mention as he is a VERY prolific writer!
E-mail: Sergio
“ente per ente” Palumbo
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