#07 LITTLE MUTANT ON THE PRAIRIE
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I had always been both repelled and fascinated by humanity. We’re talking about beings capable of crossing the universe just for love. That same species created the hydrogen bomb and the TV show Manimal. That was the major difficulty of living among sapiens: dissociating the good from the bad. It was such a grueling exercise because they often mixed the two.
To understand them, you need to know their history; a damned existence punctuated by wars. This propensity for violence was explainable, though. Earth was a jungle: the strong hunted the weak. But shouldn’t an evolved society aim to erase this archaic hierarchy? Once the Blue Planet’s paradise turned into a global Dust Bowl, was it wise to transpose this model to our system? And thus, extend this human chaos to the universe?
I hated humans. They were just bullies. Ali and I were better on our own and being Auxiliaries of Justice usually allowed us to be on the right side of the gun. Sadly, luck could run short.
“Auxiliary of Justice #TI-2-20XX-777 requesting assistance! Follow the beacon!” An S.O.S. in space is as useful as shouting from the bottom of an ocean. Beyond the belt, the signals seemed to get even more lost in the nothingness. “Auxiliary of Justice n°TI-2-20XX-777 emitting a distress call! E.T. home phone!”
A violent impact almost cut off the tip of my tongue. It was immediately followed by the ricochet of a projectile between the steel plates of the Kitty’s armor. The cockpit was plunged into darkness. Only the dashboard was flashing before a new roaring alarm rang out: the secondary pump had also been affected.
“We will soon run out of oxygen!” I yelled.
Ali occupied the gunnery station and was fighting back; filling the hold and the cabin with a smell of burnt rubber. She bombarded our pursuers tirelessly until general overheating, even if it meant melting the railgun.
Alas, the Falcon Interceptor was faster and better armed. I didn’t know where those corrupt Customs officers had gotten it, but my hatred was rather directed at the zealous Marine Overseer who hadn’t skimped on their ammunition supply. They had pounded us relentlessly for almost two days.
“How can we still fly after this non-stop rain fire?” Ali shouted back.
My partner stormed into the cockpit, her face and fingers covered with steamy oil and trickling blood. Defying the high speed, she looked for our tools. The magnetic gun had finally broken and spat molten steel over her right shoulder; burning her to the bone.
“How’s your bod?” I asked.
“Fine. I smell like an overcooked T-bone on a Sunday morning. Reminds me of Titan. Better days!”
“You had steak for breakfast? As a child?”
“Yeah. Why not? It’s proteins!” she replied, blatantly unaware of the food pyramid. “How’s the armor, though? A fucking piece of shrapnel almost took off my head earlier.”
“The Kitty should be invisible to medium-range locks because its drive signature is too weak,” I reacted as rocks brushed past the left stabilizers, wrecking the communication box in the process. “They’re shooting blind, but the situation remains critical.”
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A few seconds later, fire broke out in the cargo bay, activating another audible alarm. My Swallow has never been in such a bad state.
“Against them, only pirates would come to our rescue!” Ali grumbled, abandoning the tools to grab the old carbonic red extinguisher.
She was right, but another solution had to be found. “I have clusters in visual,” I shouted over the sirens’ shrill concert. “I’ll try to hide there for a while. But it’s pretty dense.”
“Hold on, Buck Danny! Can you fly through that?” Ali asked, growing more worried at the sight of the ferrous debris coming our way at high speed.
“Absolutely… not. I, therefore, propose to invite them on board. We’ll discuss quietly around a sorbet from your silly Snoopy Cone Machine!”
Ali gasped, right hand on the chest. “That was the best random purchase ever!”
A new impact pressed me against the seat and ejected my partner against the cabin wall, only missing the gap leading to the hold by ten inches. A shell had passed through the armor just below the cockpit, causing a large air leak under my feet.
“Buckle up, young lady! I don’t want to scrape what’s left of you off the walls!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Ali yelled, back in her seat.
I lost all control a few meters from the cloud of asteroids and ship carcasses. Luckily, the computer activated the braking system and the parachute. Behind us, the Interceptor stopped the assault. Those celestial drifting objects were dreaded by pilots.
New small debris brushed against the Kitty, destroying, one by one the last flaps needed to slow her down. Without the support of the front machine guns to clear the path, we would have almost finished our race against the flank of an old Venusian kryptoner. But as destiny had decided to mess with us, a half-asteroid, a hundred times more imposing, was about to cross our way.
On my right, my copilot perfectly summarized our situation: “Well… fuck.”
I could see the reflection of my face on the black glass of the central monitor. My tired features were bathed in the red of the warning telltales for which I could do nothing more. We were going to crash on the surface or disappear into one of those bottomless craters.
“To Hell with this universe!” I meowed as our final tomb swam closer and closer. “I wanted to return to the Rings.” Despite Ali’s reluctance, I really hoped to see Saturn again.
There was no explosion to disseminate our remains and the Kitty in the cosmos. There wasn’t even an impact against a rocky ground or an iron deposit. For we had once again avoided a catastrophe, and were flying across an atmosphere that slowed our fall.
“Where are we?” Ali asked.
We bathed in an azure sky of paradise. The Swallow hovered over an orange desert that encircled a lake far too spherical to be natural. A curious red-roofed town surrounded by pink meadows occupied a distant shoreline. It was like Alice sliding down the rabbit’s hole.
I finally experienced the shock of the long-awaited impact in each of my vertebrae, from the shoulders to the tip of my tail. Something cracked in my lower back; I couldn’t feel my back limbs. My vision blurred and the noise covered by a strong tinnitus. Everything turned black.
A jet of water coming from a crack in the front window brought me back to reality. I shouted; desperately hoping for an answer from Ali. A firm hand reached me a couple of seconds later and I got out of the Kitty through one of the cockpit’s broken windows.
“If I set my paw on the ground, you won’t find me again,” I joked as I watched my sapiens sink into the scarlet swamp surrounding us.
My savior said nothing. The blood and oil covering her pink jacket were mixed with the mud. A gaping wound on her neck flowed like a river. A piece of shrapnel had remained deep in her throat, and she could barely breathe.
“Oh dear… oh no! Ali!”
I quickly glanced back. Our poor Kitty hadn’t fared better. Ali’s father, Félix, would be really mad at us as his legacy was ruined once again! Her wings were half embedded in an amalgam of silt and dirt. The shell impacts that engulfed the water with bluish reflections were potentially repairable if we didn’t wait too long.
The question was rather the time our pursuers would allow us. On this point, an answer was immediately given to us: “Hands up!”
Exhausted, Ali finally fell backwards.