Thursday, September 21, 2017

Help! The President is an Alien!

Part 3


Return capsules weren’t supposed to land. Ever. They were supposed to head home and dock with an orbital jump station. This meant there was no official way to change the flight plan. That being said, there weren’t many things in the universe a quart of five-thousand-year-old whisky couldn’t lay to waste – Gryx’ brain and liver could attest to this. And, as expected, the return capsule’s navigational system wasn’t up to the task, either. It was easily decimated by a few shots of the whisky.
The capsule stopped its ascent and immediately dropped back to earth, crashing rather unceremoniously into the side of a mountain.
Having had only a few terrifying seconds to regret his latest questionable decision, Gryx now found himself laid out on the forest floor. He sat up painfully and checked his body. Most of him was still in one piece. The bits that were missing, well, he could regenerate those. It would take a few days, and he’d have to up his calories a bit, but that wasn’t a big deal. Upping his calories was one of his favorite past times anyway.
He took a big swig of the whisky to get started. That would take care of his nerves and provide enough calories for a couple of missing nails and a portion of his vestigial tail.
Already he was on the right track.
He stood and brushed dirt and pine needles from his ripped flight suit, then surveyed his surroundings. He’d been thrown clear from the capsule so he hobbled back over to it and inspected the damage. Large sections of the hull were cracked and burned. Much of the wiring and tech were shot also. As a return device it was useless, but the entertainment system was still intact and this was what Gryx was looking for.
He browsed the menus in search of the data that had prompted him to pour whisky over the main console. A few menus in he found it: a nuclear signature coming from this little backwater planet.
Who would’ve thought?
Apparently at some point these little chipmunks had split the atom. Good for them. They’d figured out how to harness subatomic energy and that meant they could help Gryx build an inter-dimensional homing beacon.
He wouldn’t have to travel the four hundred years back inside the capsule, he could just send an instant distress call and be picked up the following day.
Best of all, he no longer had no excuse for not learning more languages or figuring out how to stop drinking. There simply wasn’t time to do these things now. That was a huge weight off his back.
Gryx refreshed the data and got another surprise: the nuclear signature was still being detected.
He took a few moments to process the implications.
When the capsule was about to pierce the firmament its field of view had included a large part of the northern hemisphere of the planet. That was a gigantic area to capture signals from. Right now, stuck in the ground, the capsule couldn’t see much more than the dirt directly underneath it. So that meant…
The nuclear signal was coming from inside the mountain!
Gryx was shocked. He looked around. Nothing but trees and mountain in all directions. No signs of research labs or generator facilities. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was out in the wilderness, roughing it. Instead, he was apparently sitting on a cache of nuclear energy.
Why on earth would humans hide something like that away inside a mountain?... Continue reading.

Similar posts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Subscribe to claim your free novelette  

No comments:

Post a Comment