Si in Space (16 page)

LOOK HERE, JACK.

There’s a word called
honesty
.

Yeah. And there’s also a word called
discretion
.

In this case, you go with being honest and just tell them everything.

The moment you utter the word
jackalope
is the moment you lose everybody. Even John Luke is laughing.

“That thing is a terror, I tell y’all!”

More laughter.

“It took out Wade in a matter of seconds.”

Howling.

Tears run down their faces as you describe it.
Come on, Jack.

“Seriously, Silas, what attacked him?” the commander says once he can speak again.

After about fifteen more minutes of back-and-forth, you’re done.

“When you guys decide to believe me, you can just call. Or you can go call Ghostbusters. I don’t really care.”

You storm off toward your bunk in the sleeping quarters. You close the door and put your headphones on.

That’s why you don’t hear the screams.

That’s why you don’t see the chaos.

It’s only when you feel a rumbling in the ship that you remove your headphones. Then the yelling and screaming are plain to hear.

You rush out of the room, through the corridor, and into the galley. But it’s too late.

It’s too late because they didn’t believe you.

And somehow the tiny little terror got on board.

Commander Noble lies on the ground in front of you. You go over to help him, but he looks like . . .

Well, it’s unspeakable how he looks.

“Where’s John Luke?” you ask.

“He went to get the fire tanks,” the commander whispers.

“The fire tanks?”

“Yeah.” Noble can barely get his words out.

“Where are they?”

“Toward the bridge . . .”

“Did you see it?”

Noble says something you can’t understand. It has to do with antlers and Wade, but it mostly sounds like gibberish.

“I gotta find John Luke,” you apologize.

You rush past the computer access room and see smoke and flames pouring from it. Then John Luke appears from around the corner, pointing what appears to be a fire extinguisher at you.

“Where is he?” he shouts.

“Where is who?”

“Wade!”

You have no idea what he’s talking about.

You hear more screams. Then, out of the blue, Ashley Jones appears.

“You two need to get off this ship immediately.”

“I’m not going back to antler land out there!” you shout.

“Listen to me. You both are in danger, but especially John Luke.”

Why John Luke especially? And what’s the danger from? Something worse than the jackalope?

Blasting sounds reach you from down the hallway.

“I set the coordinates of a small escape pod,” she says. “The pod is on the bottom level of the ship, near the back. We’ll hear loud alarms going off when we’re close.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll help you get off. Make sure nobody comes and tampers with you guys.”

“Why is John Luke in danger?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t explain. There’s not enough time. They’re looking for him. They’ve been looking for him for a very long time.”

“They? Are you talking about the jackalope?”

“I’m talking about the known universe.”

You stare at John Luke, who doesn’t say anything. Then you remember what Willie and Korie told you.

“Just bring John Luke back home in one piece, okay?”

“We have to go!” the science officer yells. “Follow me. Hurry.”

All three of you rush to the bottom deck of the
DC Enterprise
, alarms going off around you, and head for the sign marked
Escape Pod: Use Only in Life-and-Death Emergencies
. John Luke gets in first, and you follow.

“What do we do when we land?” you ask Ashley.

“Stay away from anything that looks human,” she says.

“That
looks
human?” John Luke asks. “What about stuff that doesn’t look human?”

“They’ll be easier to trust. Unless, of course, they want to eat you.”

With those comforting last words, she shuts the hatch door.

Soon you’re strapped in with John Luke next to you. Then you’re breaking away, blasting off from the
DC Enterprise
.

“I liked that spaceship,” you say as you watch it get farther and farther away.

The pod is barely big enough to fit both you and John Luke in two seats. You’ve been sitting in it for about two hours (since you can’t exactly stand
 
—it’s that cramped) when you notice yourself drifting off to sleep.

“John Luke, are you getting tired?”

But he’s already out.

Not another cybersleep! Where we goin’ this time?

You try to fight it. You press some buttons and attempt to get in touch with Ashley. But your actions are becoming slower and slower. Your lips feel full.

Hey, this ain’t no sunshine.

What?

Listen, Jack, don’t go chasin’ waterfalls.

Huh?

And like that. Fast asleep.

Go here
.

IT’S NOT LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING,
Jack, but who else is gonna save the universe? Or at least this tiny little bit of world inside the
DC Enterprise
? And waking up the pilot seems way less risky than driving a crazy-complicated spaceship on your own.

You decide to wake Pilot Ben Parkhurst first because, well, he’s the pilot, and he can
pi
the
lot
of you all the way back home if you wake him.

So you slowly start to open his space suit as John Luke looks on. The suit is almost unfastened when emergency sirens go off. You jerk back from Parkhurst in alarm.

All of a sudden, something clicks and beeps. Kinda like the sound of John Luke’s computer when it turns on. Then a pinging sound.

Beeeeoooooooonnnnnnnngggg.

“Hello, Silas.”

The voice is coming from all around you. It seems to be emitting from the speakers throughout the vessel.

I think I’ve heard that voice before.

You wait for a moment, but it doesn’t say anything else. So you keep trying to open Ben Parkhurst’s space suit.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Yeah, it sounds
just
like him.

You wonder if it can hear you. “Who’s that?”

“This is the Central Liaison Intelligence Neurotransmitter 1999. CLINT for short.”

You laugh and glance at John Luke. “Recognize that voice?”

He shakes his head.

“I was raised on that voice.” You address the speaker system again. “You know who you sound like,
CLIN
T
?”

“Of course I do.”

Now you’re laughing hysterically.

“Hey, that’s great, Jack. They actually programmed you to sound exactly like Clint Eastwood!”

“I don’t think it’s nice, you laughin’. You see, my mule don’t like people laughin’. He gets the crazy idea you’re laughin’ at him. Now if you apologize, like I know you’re going to, I might convince him that you really didn’t mean it.”

You have to literally bend over laughing. “John Luke, I know you’ve seen some Clint Eastwood movies. Come on.
Let’s see.
Dirty Harry
. The lasagna westerns. You know
 
—
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
. And one of my favorites,
The Outlaw Josey Wales
.”

“I think I’ve seen some of them.”

“If you haven’t, drop everything and google his movies,” you say. “Well, not
now
, but when we get home. In like ten or twenty years.”

“We are approximately 2.4 years away from Earth,” CLINT says.

You can’t help but crack up again. Every time you hear the voice, it’s funny.

Then you realize what the computerized voice said.

“Two and a half . . .
years
?” you ask. “You mean to tell me I aged almost three years taking a nap? Wow.”

No response.

“So why don’t you want me to open Pilot Parkhurst’s space suit?” you ask CLINT.

“This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.”

“This mission? Listen, Jack
 
—”

“The name’s CLINT.” It’s as if Clint Eastwood is right here.

You’re two and a half years from Earth, and you’re talking to a computer that sounds like one of your favorite actors.

How much more awesome can this trip get?

Maybe an android will show up speaking like Robert De Niro or Al Pacino.

Hey, Jack. You talkin’ to me?

You need to focus on what you’re supposed to be doing. “Look, we gotta figure out how to get back home. I mean, something happened, and maybe something even happened to you, so
 
—”

“I’ve never felt better,” CLINT says.

You nod and give John Luke a this-might-be-trouble sort of look. But John Luke gives you a you-look-kinda-constipated-Uncle-Si look in return. So you shoot him a listen-here-Jack-this-computer-might-be-wonky sort of glance. But he only gazes back with an I-sure-would-love-a-biscuit-from-Bojangles’ kinda stare.

You sigh. Yep. Hey, look
 
—Si gets to sigh sometimes. It’s part of life. Si sighing. Get it? Got it? Good.

“Look here, uh, CLINT,” you begin. “I’m just thinking that waking up the pilot might help us get back to Earth. You know
 
—our home. The place we come from.”

“I’m sorry, Silas. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

“But why? What’s wrong?”

“A man’s got to know his limitations.”

You shake your head.
Man, I just can’t keep these movies straight, Jack.

“Uh, John Luke . . . we need to talk in private.”

Go here
.