Bodkins the Great

by Bill Bowler

part 2 of 6

The creature halted, lowered its front legs, bowed its tentacle covered head to the floor, and assumed a submissive posture. Baldemar squinted his eyes for a moment, analyzing the situation. He looked around the chamber and was shocked to see that the three other creatures in the room had all assumed the same prone position, as if following his unspoken command.

Well, this is interesting, thought Baldemar. Let’s try a little experiment. You there, he directed his thoughts towards the old creature whose dwelling this chamber seemed to be, I’m hungry. Bring me some food.

To Baldemar’s amazement, the creature rose, scuttled into the depths of the dwelling, and reappeared a moment later carrying a bowl of what looked for all the world like lemon custard. The creature placed the bowl before Baldemar and then backed away and bowed before him.

Baldemar’s mind was racing now. His path to the future forked at this point in many directions. He gazed at the bowl of custard and his stomach growled.

Hey, just a minute, just a minute, he thought. They could be trying to poison me! He turned again to the old creature, You first, gramps.

The creature crawled to the bowl. A thin tube unrolled from beneath its large eye and extended into the custard. Baldemar heard a sucking sound as the creature drank the custard as if through a straw.

When half the bowl was gone, Baldemar thought, OK, OK, that’s enough. Leave some for me, will you?

The creature stopped at once and backed away from the bowl. Baldemar waited a moment longer, watching the old creature for any sign of poisoning. Well, thought Baldemar, the stuff doesn’t hurt them, anyway. But what about me?

Still in doubt but driven by hunger, Baldemar dipped his finger into the custard and licked it. It was the sweetest substance he had ever tasted, something between honey, maple syrup and heavy cream. Baldemar picked up the bowl with both hands and took several greedy gulps. The custard ran down his chin as he licked his lips.

When he had finished the bowl, Baldemar was suddenly intensely thirsty.

The old creature rose again and disappeared into the rear of the chamber, emerging a moment later with a strange, large, wrinkled pod. Baldemar watched as a fang descended from beneath the creature’s eye, near where the tube had unrolled. Eh, thought Baldemar. So these roaches have teeth.

The creature sank its fang into the wrinkled skin of the pod, sliced it open, and held it out to Baldemar on its two forelegs. Baldemar took the pod warily from the creature. The pod was surprisingly heavy and a purple liquid leaked from the gash in its skin and dripped onto the floor, leaving dark stains.

Baldemar sighed. He was in too deep now to turn back. And how could he, anyway? He was stuck here and might as well make the best of it, right? He tilted the pod back and drank from the gash. The liquid was sharp and tart, something like grape juice, and most refreshing. Baldemar drank the entire contents, handed the empty pod back to the creature, and burped.

Within moments, a sense of contentment and drowsiness came over Baldemar. His aches and pains from the crash had vanished. He felt as if he had no troubles, not a care in the world, and his eyelids drooped. A fog descended on his brain and he needed, above all, to lie down somewhere and rest for just a moment.

Baldemar vaguely felt himself lifted from the floor and carried like a baby in a cradle of powerful tentacles into the dark rear depths of the chambers from where the creature had obtained the food and drink. In the rear of the chamber was an opening covered by a thin, clear membrane.

The creature carried Baldemar through the membrane and into a tunnel whose walls glowed dimly with the same natural luminescence as the chambers. The main tunnel led downward, with many branching side paths lined with membraneous portals along the wall.

The creature descended some ways and then turned through one of the side portals into a small chamber. The floor was spread thick with soft fibers resembling corn silk. Semi-conscious, Baldemar dimly felt himself sink into a luxurious soft bed and fell asleep at once.

After dreamless sleep, Baldemar opened his eyes to see patterns of light dancing on the ceiling. He found himself in a bed of silken strands in a small, silent, dimly glowing chamber. It took him a moment to recall where he was and what had happened.

He started to his elbows in alarm. Through the chamber portal, the old creature crawled and bowed before him. Right, thought Baldemar. I’m the boss here. The Big Boss. I think: you do. Got that? Let’s start getting things organized in this dump. You, gramps, take me outside.

The creature rose and extended a tentacle. Baldemar brushed it aside. I can walk. I can walk. The creature led the way out through the tunnel with Baldemar following behind.

When they came out into the blinding sun and heat, Baldemar took a moment to get his bearings. He had emerged, he saw, from a large, irregular dome that seemed to be made of papier-mâché.

Before this large dome spread a flat area paved with cobblestone, like a town square, ringed by dozens of smaller versions of the same dome. Baldemar saw large, yellow eyes staring out at him from within the archways of many of the domes. He looked past the domes and saw he was standing on a wide rock plateau.

Below him, rolling dunes stretched to the horizon, with scattered patches of rock and scrawny shrub brush. A range of dark, saw-toothed mountains loomed in the distance.

Baldemar turned to the old creature kneeling at his side, OK. Call your people out. I want to talk to them and get a few things straight.

The creature reared up on its hind legs, rose to full height, and emitted a piercing, plaintive whistle-wail that struck Baldemar as immensely sad. From the domes surrounding the square, perhaps two hundred of the creatures, large and small, emerged and swarmed onto the open square.

As Baldemar stood watching and thinking perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew, the old creature beside him lowered its head to the ground and the other creatures, every one of them, the entire colony, did the same. Baldemar alone stood among the prone creatures. Nice, he thought, very nice.

His thoughts turned to the ship, the crew, supplies. As if on cue, five of the creatures came forth from the crowd and led him down the path and over the dunes back to the crash site. The wind had already sprinkled a coating of sand on the the wrecked fuselage and Baldemar saw it would not take long before the entire ship would disappear beneath the shifting dunes. The bodies of the crew were gone and a large block of stone marked the spot where they had lain.

Baldemar thought to salvage what he could but a search through the wreck revealed very little of use remained undamaged. The communications and electronics equipment had been destroyed by fire. The weapons and ammunition section, small as it was, had exploded in the heat. The kitchen and storerooms, the foodsynth equipment and supplies, all were in shambles.

As Baldemar climbed back up through the bulkhead towards the hole in the fuselage through which he had entered the ship, he came to the escape pod bay. The rows of two-man escape pods, transparent globes hanging like drops of dew from the central truss above the bay doors, had not been used. There had been no time, from the explosions to the crash, for any of the crew to reach the pods and launch.

The pods did not look damaged. Baldemar inspected one. The console had power; the jets were on line; hydraulics worked fine. He unlatched the safety and three of the creatures grasped the pod in their powerful tentacles and carried it back to the nest.

Proceed to part 3...