Chapter 2

There were very few times in his life when he had been happy to wake up to a hangover. In fact, after a bit of rather foggy thinking he realized he couldn’t remember another one, but after running his hand down his leg and not finding the two blood sucking space parasites, he decided today was a first. Having a hangover in exchange for those things not being there was well worth it. The irony of having a bigger, more evolved blood sucking space parasite as his doctor almost made Carl laugh, but the throbbing in his head quickly reined in his levity. At least, he thought as he cracked open one eye, Cretelians prefer to keep the lights down all the time so there was no needless eye pain adding to his headache.

“A little water please...” Carl croaked out from between parched lips.

“Ahhh, ze patient haz returned to ze universe of ze living I see,” Drillax replied quietly, slipping a tube between his Dunkarian patient’s lips. “I see you’ve noticed your two phallic leg adornments are no longer attached and I’m pleased to inform you that you are indeed still alive and whole.”

Sucking down gulp after gulp of cool water, Carl turned his head slightly towards his pointy eared doctor, a smile slowly turning up the corners of his mouth. “Aww crap Drillax ... you don’t have to shout, do you?” At his alien friend’s perplexed look, his smile grew. “Okay, does this highly evolved space-faring menagerie at least have some kinda’ high-tech headache eraser thingy-ma-bobby you could be using on me right now? Or could you at least help me out with some Advil or aspirin?”

“It is good to see zat my patient is recowering his sense of humor,” Drillax deadpanned while pushing Carl’s head back onto the assessment table with what Carl thought was a rather disturbingly cool hand considering the comfortably warm ambient temperature. He slowly placed a small black device on his patient’s forehead, and swiped a very long, bony finger across its interface. “Zis vill help break down the acetaldehyde which your body has been unable to clear from your system and remove many of the cogeners which seem to be present in your dark run ... ah no, RUM vis an ‘m’ ... than ze ozer, lighter vun.”

Carl strained his eyes upward and could faintly see the deep green light the device was emitting but was rewarded for the effort with a lancing pain behind his eyes.

“Couldn’t you have done this before I woke up Drillax so that I didn’t have to experience this whopper of a hangover?”

“Stop being such a small post-gestational Dunkarian, Carl ... and just drink your ... what did you call it? A juice cube, juicy square, juicy box? While ve vere able to replace much of the blood you lost, you are still qvuite dehydrated.”

“Yes mommy...” he replied loudly, turning his head and muttering “It’s a juice BOX and I am not being a baby.”

“I have taken ze liberty of informing First Officer Pooz zat your medical condition has cleared up and that you will be returning to the Ferdan shortly for your servitude.”

Carl turned his head quickly back towards Drillax, “Uh, that seems rather quick considering the way I’m feeling...” The rather odd, questioning look of the Cretelian’s face, especially the one raised eyebrow, made Carl pause and realize what he had just done and the fact that the device on his forehead was no longer glowing.

Plucking the device from his forehead, Drillax gestured for him to continue. “You vere saying?”

Sitting up with a shake of his head to confirm the migraine was in fact gone, Carl swung his feet to the side and looked directly at his doctor. “Damn you and your Vulcan logic and super space gadgets,” he said, jumping off the table and standing to test his right leg. “Can I get one of those green beam ... what do you call that?” he asked, pointing to the device held delicately by Drillax’s long bony fingers.

Carl knew immediately that he would never be able to replicate the series of pops and clicks mixed with whistles which came from the Cretelian’s mouth and was flabbergasted. “You can’t be serious! THAT is the name of the device? I can’t image those sounds passing from a Bullmarite’s mouth parts or even a Sycurian’s bloated lips! I can’t believe you all couldn’t come up with a better name for it ... like a cerebral detoxifier or something...”

“Tventy von.”

“What?”

“It is known as a ‘tventy von.’”

“This medical device that removes impurities and ... etcetera ... from the brain is called a twenty one!? I mean it’s better than that bird call you just did but why the hell is it called by a simple number like it’s some item on the value meal menu at Burger King?”

“I’m not sure vhat all of zat you just said means Carl, but ze reason iz qvuite simple. What you so humorously call ze Galactic UN, vell, zey couldn’t decide upon a universal name. You see, the Uvarans, who developed the device didn’t like where the naming process vas going and almost started a var with the Pmurtaners who objected to the device being included at all in zhere Med Bays as they don’t really have brains in zhe traditional sense, so to avoid further potential conflict zhey simply vent by ze item’s number in zhe Unidar’s Standard Medical Unit Technical Provisioning Ancillary Requisitioning Text Yellow. It is zhe tventy first item and ... vhy are you laughing, Carl?”

Carl held up his hand, motioning for the doctor to give him a minute, wiped the tears from his eyes and attempted to get his remaining giggles under control before trying to explain. “On Earth, we take long, complex descriptions or designations like that and create abbreviations for them so they’re easier to remember and faster to say and write down ... like IBM for International Business Machines or radar for a radio detection and ranging machine.” Carl paused for the Cretellian to connect the dots.

“Okay ... I am following vhat you are saying, but vhat iz funny about smut party 21?”

Carl couldn’t suppress the desire to laugh but was surprised when his compatriot didn’t. “No? Nothing? Cretellians can find things funny, right?”

“Carl, I understand that you have to learn about zhe entire breadth of zhe broader galactic community, and you have already come a long way, but you need to also realize zat the corollary is also true ... I am zhe doctor and zhe sanitation engineer on this scout vessel, not a Dunkarian expert, so consider much of what you find to be funny in relation to things on your ‘planet Earzh’, to be one big ... how do you who-mans say ... indoors joke? And yes, my kind do have a sense of humor and find many sings funny ... like your movie picture film Tvilight ... like a Cretellian would ever vant to be making zhe vhoopie vhit zat mopey, stone faced Bella Svan!”

The sight of Drillax smiling and laughing, though still somewhat disturbing, made Carl laugh again. It was nice to know he could get the normally strait-laced doctor to loosen up a bit. And the fact that the scary bastard had managed to bash the much reviled (or much beloved ... depending on your viewpoint) vampire telenovela of a film series made it all the funnier, especially coming from a real ‘vampire.’ “So, you won’t start sparkling like a faceted crystal when exposed to sunlight?”

“Hardly. It is razher like an accelerated form of vhat you Dunkarians call sunburn, except ve rapidly progress from your level one burns to lewel sree and four degree burns in mere moments from exposure to a star such as zhe von in zis system. Vizh longer exposure, organ, muscle, tendon, and skeletal damage iz qvuite rapid. It is not, as you Dunkar say, a pretty vay to go.”

“Well, if we ever go visiting Earth together, we’ll go at night or pick you up some serious SPF 100! Or do you guys have something like that already?”

“The star that our home vorld rewolwes around is vhat your scientists vould call a Class M star, which has a lower mass and solar luminosity to your star, so vhen our kind first explored ozher solar systems, ve vhere prepared vhis our own radiation blocking protocols, including a topical application. Unfortunately, vhen Dracullax ze Explorer’s ship crashed on your planet most of his supplies vere destroyed and your legends vere born. By zhe vay, vhere do you sink Eugène Schueller got zhe idea in zhe first place?”

Carl was so taken aback by the casual way Drillax tossed out the obviously human name and how he seemed to know exactly who it was and what he did ... especially because he didn’t know himself. “Who the hell is Eugene Schueller?”

“You do not seem to be not wery vell wersed in your own history ... are you sure you are an expert in your own kind Carl?” Unbeknownst to Drillax, he had just hit upon a sore point that Carl had been trying to wrestle with since he had been ‘recruited.’

“Listen, there are over seven and a half billion people on our planet now and our kind has over three thousand solar revolutions of recorded history, so forgive me if I don’t know everyone who ever existed on the planet and what they achieved ... that’s what Google is for anyway.”

Just then the holo screen on his wrist vibrated and he looked down. He had spent a few days playing with the device and with his position in the science section of the ship, he’d been able to link his holo directly to his science station and piggyback a signal through one of the active scanning arrays to have constant access to the internet ... and actually any computer on the planet that wasn’t isolated and heavily shielded. Having access to advanced technologies like these could make him rich and powerful ... if he could go back ... but accepting his position required taking citizenship in the galactic community, which made even requesting a visit to his own home world a bureaucratic nightmare. He unconsciously shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay ... he’s the guy who founded L’Oréal and did invent the first suntan lotion eighty some odd solar revolutions ago.” Looking up and seeing the Cretellian once again smiling, Carl realized he had been teasing and sighed resignedly.

“Look, I’m sorry for being defensive but I’m a still a little puzzled as to why they picked me ... I mean there are literally billions of other choices they could have made, and I’d imagine there is a historian, college professor or even a god-damned Jeopardy champion that would be more knowledgeable than me.”

With a resigned shrug, Carl sat down again on the assessment table. “From the very few words that tight-lipped Malakaian Captain of ours shared with me the first day I was ‘recruited’ almost half a revolution ago, I still haven’t been able to glean anything as to why I was chosen. And I’ve been unable to get anything out of his four damned Chayot ... they are more like freakin’ sphinxes than pilots. I mean, they don’t even want to talk about flying that crazy ship they picked me up in!”

“Actually, I am surprised Captain Armoniel vas given permission to use it to collect you, actually.” When Carl looked at him quizzically, Drillax continued. “Zhe Malakaia’s Kodesh class drop ship iz vat you who-mans vould call an antique and a bit on zhe dramatic side vhis its bright shining light and zhe whole pilots on zhe outside setup. But Malakaians were newer known for their modesty or zheir patience ... especially zhe four or six vinged vons like Aromoniel. But vhy it is most curious is because of its known effects on Dunkarian physiology.”

Carl looked down. He couldn’t help but remember how, as soon as he was able to make out the shape of a flying chariot in the light that had intercepted his car in the middle of the highway that fateful night, all his fear and worry seemed to disappear. He had been traveling eastbound on Route 80 and having passed the turnoff for State College a while back, he was on one of the less populated stretches of highway at around 2 AM in the morning. At some point along the dark stretch road with no other vehicles in sight in either direction, he noticed what he thought was a shooting star out of the corner of his eye ... until he looked and realized it was moving too slowly. Shaking his head for thinking a plane was a shooting star, he turned his eyes back to the road. Perhaps he was just tired after having spent the day presenting to a prospective client and then the evening entertaining them at a local restaurant.

He hadn’t gotten back on the road until after midnight and at the point where his eyelids began to droop with the monotony of the view and the somniferous noise of the tires on the road, he had begun wondering if his decision to drive home instead of spending the night in a hotel was a bad idea. Chiding himself for not taking advantage of his company’s reimbursement program for overnight stays after late business meetings, he glanced out the driver’s side window in the direction of the plane and his heart leapt when he saw the light was much bigger than before. His panicked brain told him the only way you see that that bright from an airplane is when the landing lights are on and it was coming down!

After getting the car back under control after almost swerving off the road, he looked again and realized there were several problems with his brain’s knee-jerk conclusion ... the single light wasn’t getting any bigger, there were no red or green flashing navigation lights out where the wings should be and there was no large airport close enough for a plan to have already put on its landing lights – well, that and the fact that it looked like the light was now traveling in a roughly a parallel direction to his car. Despite being a fan of science fiction and always having been of the belief that humans could not be the only sentient form of life in an unquantifiable large universe, Carl still found himself more than a little freaked out by the experience. His mind raced along with his heart trying to come up with a logical explanation.

‘Maybe it’s a plane with malfunctioning lights ... nah. Maybe it was the Goodyear blimp - the bright LED sign on the side of that lighter-than-air vehicle had easily fooled hundreds in New Jersey and New York a few years back in a near dusk situation with its close to saucer- shaped profile. Nope ... moving far too fast.’

Careful to keep bringing his eyes back to the road every few seconds, Carl struggled with the improbability of the situation and looked once again, desperately trying to see navigation lights or some other sign when the light shot forward incredibly fast. ‘Okay ... fighter jet maybe?’ he thought.