“Just do as you’re told, kid. That’s how you’ll stay alive.”
A flash of a muzzle flare. The concussive sound of a detonated lava mine.
“Shoot anything that moves.”
“Get down.”
Blood running like tears under matted hair. Pleading yellow eyes.
“You did the best you could, Mal. You did so much…”
“You caused so much pain, Mr. Wrynn. And for what?”
An adolescent scream. A glass filled with dark liquid. A smile behind the distorted rim.
“You can never go back. This life will consume you.”
“You can never go back.”
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Wrynn’s eyes shot open, and he slammed his fist down but missed the armrest, causing him to fall halfway out of the pilot’s seat.
“Ah!” he moaned as bones ground against cartilage and his recently sleep-paralyzed muscles spasmed at the sudden movement. Sleeping anger turned to waking pain. That dream again. That haunting vision of a life long past.
Yellow light filtered in from above and through the shattered windshield as the dawn of a new day greeted him. The pilot righted himself and let pop whatever bones felt like popping to relieve the tension of a rough night’s sleep. He dragged himself up and out of the cockpit and jumped down to the earth.
The sun was shining in the meadow, and it looked to be an hour or so past dawn. Uncertain when he would be able to return, he stuffed the most perishable of his emergency rations into his pack and started back to the Ufuli village.
Along the way, he pulled up his HUD to start looking through the list of supplies he would need to start repairing the ship. Comms was the highest priority. As he scrolled through the holographic list, he noticed a new app had been added to his options list. He called the feature and it appeared to be a portable version of Survive.ai. It would use his ship’s power to compute its functions but would allow him to access the machine’s functions from a distance.
Curious, he tested it. “Proximity scan,” he ordered. He heard an auditory confirmation ding and his holo-sight started highlighting objects of interest in his field of vision.
“Good morning, Captain,” said the same electronic voice in his ear from yesterday. “I’m detecting a number of unknown substances and lifeforms around. It looks like quite a few could be edible or be put to use in other ways. If you can repair our molecular scanner I could identify them further.”
“What else do you see?”
“Would you like to hear the material report?” asked the voice.
“Sure.”
“Atmospheric pressure at .89 bar. Air composition is 29 percent oxygen, 52 percent nitrogen…” The computer continue to rattle on as he walked. It was somewhat comforting, like listening to the morning news.
His mind wandered to the Darkal that he had left with the Ufuli. The one called Chief said they would watch the Darkal, but he was a bit skeptical on the Ufuli’s abilities as prison guards. They seemed too carefree and bubbly. But maybe he was drawing conclusions based on the exterior. Given some time and direction, perhaps he could get some use out of these creatures, yet.
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When he entered the village, the streets were bustling with the sheep-like Ufuli. Their round bodies walked up and down the hillside, tools in hand and they were busy working on various tasks. Some were repairing roofing from the previous afternoon’s Darkal raid, others stirring large pots of some building compound or making fresh tools. There were even larger, four-legged beasts of burden that were grazing patiently on the hillside while hitched to wooden carts. He could have mistaken it for a marketplace on the Outer Rim if he was not aware that he was in the middle of nowhere.
Wrynn followed his nose to an open-air bakery and browsed the stacks of warm loaves. He found his mouth watering while he perused the golden crusts and he selected a particularly fine-looking loaf that resonated with a beautiful sound when he tapped the outside.
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He brought the bread to the counter where the baker was busy shuffling loaves in and out of the roaring oven and he recognized the white fur and cheerful, bobbing gait of the Ufuli he had met the day previous.
“Vessa,” he said and the little creature turned with a happy expression.
“Ah, Wrynn. Good to see you this morning. What is that you have there?”
“I was hoping to buy this. What do I owe you?”
Vessa looked at him with a tilted stare. “Owe? I do not understand. Feeding time has passed, but if you desire it it is yours.”
“Come now, I can’t keep taking things for free. You probably don’t use Federation coin here, but I have skills that can meet your needs.”
“Oh, Wrynn.” The Ufuli looked bashful. “No need to be so forward.” At that time, two smaller Ufuli came around, each with a loaf of bread in their hands. “Guush allai. Two leaving, Vessa,” they said and scampered off.
“Hyuus allaine,” called Vessa after them, and then repeated the phrase at Wrynn, “Hyuus allaine,” gesturing for him to eat before turning around to tend to the oven. The translation had not come through as to what that exchange meant, but Wrynn obliged, digging into the warm bread.
“How has our prisoner been?” he asked, watching Vessa work. Large gloves protected the furry hands from catching flame in the roaring stove.
“Chief has been up all night watching him. That Darkal is a very strange creature, indeed. If you wait for one minute I will accompany you over.”
Wrynn finished his breakfast while he scanned the rest of the village. It seemed wherever he looked there were Ufuli in good spirits. Under Federation rule, this would be suspicious behavior, but he had encountered this primitive emotion once or twice in the past when visiting planets on the Outer Rim where the reach of the galactic superpower was less oppressive.
Vessa took his hand to let him know they were ready to leave and the two of them walked back to Chief’s house. Along the way, Vessa addressed him with an inquisitive tone of voice.
“Excuse me, Wrynn. I know you are planning on visiting the Binar Valley with the Darkal youngling. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I accompanied you.”
Despite how helpful Vessa had been so far, Wrynn was uncertain of taking on more traveling companions than necessary. “Is there a reason you want to go?” he asked pointedly.
“On the way, you will travel through the Forest of Restora. Scout told me there are Restora butterflies that live there. I have always wanted to visit, but I have never been so far from the village.”
“Wouldn’t you be missed around here?”
“Not at all. Vessarin bakes in my stead, though he is like to skimp on kneading the dough.”
The rising smoke stack lined with red brick of Chief’s home was in sight giving him an excuse to delay the conversation. “Let’s talk about this later,” said Wrynn.
Outside Chief’s home, they found Chief and Nerbo lounging on wooden chairs, soaking up the sunlight. They were each wearing a visor to keep the light out of their eyes and there was a line of drool on the outside of Chief’s mouth.
The sight was far from what Wrynn expected. Foremost, his prisoner was not tied down to the chair in any way. No chains or bindings. Free to leave at any time. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust the kind Ufuli with the task. Wrynn tapped the leg of the Darkal’s chair with his foot and Nerbo startled awake in a daze, flapping its wings and spinning wildly.
“Help! Help! We’re under attack!” It squawked, but then the creature’s eyes focused. “Oh. It’s you,” it said, unimpressed, and fluttered back to its seat. “Elder, the large one is here.” Nerbo poked the resting Ufuli next to them.
The older Ufuli stirred and finally stretched, blotting their eyes with the back of their hand. “Ah, good morning, Wrynn. Vessa. I must have fallen asleep. We were up all night discussing the history of the Darkal.”
“I thought you said you would keep watch,” said Wrynn. “How would we know this troublemaker wouldn’t run off?”
“They know they are a prisoner,” said Chief plainly. “So of course they must stay.”
Wrynn gave Chief a hard look, and then turned his eye on the Darkal.
“The bond will not hold me forever,” said Nerbo. “But this is an opportunity to gather information on these silly Ufuli so the next time we strike we can be more effective in exploiting their weaknesses.”
Wrynn felt like they were playing a prank on him, but the rules in this society were unpredictable. “Then before whatever bond this is decides to fly away, how about you take me to this place you were talking about? We’re burning daylight.”
“Now, Wrynn,” said Chief. “There’s no need to be in such a hurry. Why don’t you let us get ready for the journey and we’ll depart with good preparation.”
“You’re not planning on coming along are you?” Wrynn frowned. “I’m sure the town needs you here.”
“Nonsense. Of course I will come. There is much to see out there and I will be a better Chief for seeing it.”
Vessa jumped on the chance to chime in. “Chief, would you permit me to come along with you?”
“Certainly,” said the self-invited Ufuli. “The more the better when traveling.”
Wrynn let out a long exhale. “Is there some way to get around then? A cart or a horse or something?”
“Our landofri?” asked Vessa, gesturing to a passing beast of burden transporting a cart filled with hay. A mess of brown fur covered the long face and body of the creature that looked like a wet mop. “I’m afraid they would not be able to traverse the wildlands for very long. No, we will travel by foot.”
“You landstriders may travel by foot, but I will be flying,” said Nerbo.
“As you wish,” said Chief, wagging a finger, “but remember you are still our prisoner so you must show us the way.”
The three fluff balls continued discussing among themselves the best route to take and what to pack for the journey. Wrynn slouched into a sitting position, wondering if he should have simply asked for a map.