Flash Fiction--WEP: Footprints

 

It's that time, a little early this month because of the holidays. I put off writing my story to the last minute, hoping for inspiration. You get to decide if I got it :)

WEP/IWSG challenges are open to all.

On the 1st of the challenge month, there will be a get-your-thinking-caps on post. The badge will include the dates of the challenge and the winner’s prize.

Going forward, the InLinkz sign up will open on the third Wednesday and close 3 days later. Participants link up with the DLs.

Team members collate a SHORTLIST and Nick Wilford judges WINNER, RUNNER UP and ENCOURAGEMENT AWARD.

The BEST COMMENTER AWARD will continue, shared by different people, so keep on reading wonderful people!

And look who won the Commenter Award this time!

Xavier Xanthum may deserve a little explanation. I invented him years ago for an X post in the A to Z blogging challenge, and kind of fell in love with my absurd space explorer. He's a bit of a dweeb, a bit of a nerd, and a loner who isn't always sure if that's by choice or necessity. His best friend is his ship's AI.

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer: Footprints

Footprints: A Xavier Xanthum Adventure

Xavier Xanthum  studied the ground beneath the Wanderlust with a scowl, and grunted.

“What is troubling you, Captain?” Larry asked. The AI materialized his floating eyeballs so they could peer into the vidscreen along with the space explorer.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Xavier said. “You aren’t fooling anyone. I know you do your seeing with the hull-mount cameras.”

“Does it not give you comfort to know that I am also studying the situation?”

“No.” Xavier tore his gaze from the screen long enough to glance at his semi-real companion. “Yes. I’m glad you’re looking. I don’t need the eyeballs to know that. Anyway, this isn’t that kind of situation. I just was hoping for something more… interesting.”

Larry directed his eyeballs back to the screen, and appeared to consider the view of the land beneath them. “It may be lacking variety,” he pointed out, “but it looks… safe.”

Xavier sighed. “It does. Safe, and boring, and not likely to be profitable. Still, we’re here, so I suppose I should go down and investigate. Any signs of life?” He waited patiently while Larry did a complete scan of both the records and all his instruments.

“No life reported above single-cell organisms. Nothing on my sensors. The planet has been visited by three previous explorers, none of whom found anything of worth. Why have we come here?”

“I was going to ask you that. Three previous explorers?” They argued for a few minutes over who was responsible for wasting their time with such a planet.

Larry ended the argument. “I need a few hours in the upper atmosphere to recharge certain systems. You may as well go down. It looks like a nice beach.”

Still grumbling and griping, Xavier prepared himself for the descent to the planet.

“Take your swim trunks,” Larry advised. “The atmosphere and water check out as healthy for humans.”

“It’s uninhabited. Why would I need swim trunks?”

#

An hour or two later, Xavier climbed out of the landing pod and stretched. The air felt flat, with no plants or animals to create smells. The land was an endless expanse of dark sand, eroded from the distant volcanic mounds, heaped into low dunes along the shore as far as he could see. It was pretty, in a bleak sort of way.

Xavier touched his radio. “I’m going for a swim, then taking a look around. You can track me while I’m swimming.”

The space pilot skinned out of his flight jumper and shoes, and headed for the water. The sand was hot, so he ran a little. The water was the perfect temperature, and he began to think the planet ought to be worth developing as a resort.

Tired of swimming, he decided to walk along the beach a ways, to see if he could spot any landscape features more interesting than the volcanoes. He stayed on the damp edge of the beach to avoid the hot sand.

Xavier was perhaps a kilometer from his landing pod when he stopped, staring at the ground.

Footprints.

He looked behind him. His own prints led in a straight line back to the landing pod. These led up to the dunes. The prints were humanoid, and there were at least three of them. Xavier decided he was naked, rather than nude.

“Larry? Can you get me out of here?” He asked it before remembering that his comms connection was in his jumpsuit. He’d been too cheap to get it implanted. Well, there was nothing to panic over. He’d just turn around and head back…

Three women appeared over a small dune. Without plants or anything to provide perspective, he’d not known there were dunes high enough to hide a person, let alone a trio of them, and their ship? Why didn’t Larry know these women were here?

And why hadn’t he worn his swim trunks?

The women wore swim suits. There were three women in swimsuits walking towards him, and it had been ages since Xavier had taken shore leave anywhere with such creatures. For a moment he froze.

The one on the right, a blonde he was pretty sure was stunning, opened her mouth. To speak to him, or to scream at the sight of a naked man? Or to laugh?

Feeling inadequate as well as under-dressed, Xavier did the only thing he could.

He turned and ran for the water. It had been a while, but he was pretty sure he could swim a mile back to his pod.

For the first hundred meters, the swim felt great. Xavier paused after a while to check that he was getting away. Three heads plowed through the water, three sets of arms flashing in the sunlight. Xavier thought he was a good swimmer, but they were better. How long had they been on this planet, practicing, lying in wait for an unsuspecting space explorer?

For a moment he hesitated. Maybe they were marooned and needed help? Maybe he should stop and talk?

Why weren’t they calling to him, then? If they needed help, they’d be shouting at him about it.

Those three sleek bodies, carving through the water towards him… Xavier panicked again.

He swam for the shore and surfed up onto the beach. Staggering out of the water, he broke into a run.

His pursuers caught him a dozen yards from the pod.

#

If Xavier suffered a fate worse than death, he didn’t seem to mind. A long time later, he entered the pod, not seeming to notice that the beach was now empty of all but himself.

“Larry, you knew those women were down there. Why didn’t you warn me?”

The AI sounded far more smug than a machine should. “I did suggest you wear your swim trunks.”

Xavier didn’t press the point. He was asleep.

Larry hummed a bit as he navigated the pod back to the Wanderlust, no end pleased with himself.

###

990 words; FCA

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2019
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Flashback Friday: New Year's with Xavier Xanthum

 Flashback Friday is a monthly meme that takes place on the last Friday of the month.
The idea is to give a little more love to a post you’ve published on your blog before.  Maybe you just love it, maybe it’s appropriate for now, or maybe it just didn’t get the attention it deserved when you first published it.

Thanks to Michael d’Agostino, who started it all, there is a solution – join Flashback Friday! And thanks to Jemima Pett, who has kept it going--visit her blog to add your name to the list!

Just join in whenever you like, repost one of your own blog posts, including any copyright notices on text or media, on the last Friday of the month.

 ######

This month's Flashback post is a 650-word story I'd forgotten all about. I thought it was about time for some action from Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, and this in my opinion is on of the best of his tales.

Xavier Xanthum's New Year

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, gazed morosely at the fuel-level indicator of the starship Wanderlust. A voice interrupted his gloomy musings.

"Captain, we're going to have to put in at Haven for fuel," Larry announced.

"I can see that." Xavier let his irritation show. Larry wouldn't take offense. It was hard to offend even a self-willed AI. "I told you, I hate going there," Xavier continued. "Why didn't you remind me about fuel back in the D-36 System where we had some choices?"

"I did. But then there was that sweet little planet..."

Xavier sighed. It had been a lovely planet, with gleaming seas and perfect land-masses. It would have been worth just about anything to claim that one. Too bad about the Krrg who held it.

He'd been in such a hurry to get away from the Krrg--they didn't take kindly to interlopers--that he'd forgotten all about the fuel. Bad, but understandable. "Hey, wait a minute--yeah, I forgot, but you could have reminded me once we were away from those brutes."

"I forgot."

That silenced Xavier. After a long minute, he carefully pointed out, "You're an AI. You don't forget."

Another silence followed, despite the effectively instantaneous nature of Larry's thought processors.

"That is correct."

The two friends, man and AI, considered this. Larry appeared in his usual guise, as a pair of eyeballs, sans body. On this occasion, the eyes were green. An odd, pea-soup kind of green. "I am dismayed to learn this," Larry said, his computer voice drained of expression by his shock.

After a minute, Xavier decided he'd rather not think about it.

"Larry, set course for Haven. We need to refuel." The subject was closed.
###
Haven was wide open.  Xavier studied his viewer with distaste. Like most free-lance space explorers, Xavier Xanthum was an introvert, quite content with the company of Larry and their cat, Comet. It was a necessary condition of the employment; an extrovert would go mad or die, forced to spend months and even years alone between planets.

For Xavier, an entire planet engaged in a massive drunken party was a blast for about fifteen minutes. By now, he knew better than to even start. But there it was, clear on every channel he could open to Haven. Always a party planet at the best of times (the name referred to the planet being a haven from a repressive regime that didn't approve of festivities), every spaceport dirtside appeared to be enjoying some kind of wild celebration.

"What are they partying about, Larry?" It would be good to know. A party this huge might indicate the overthrow of a regime or survival of a plague.

"It appears to be an annual celebration of the recalibration of their local calendar."

Xavier thought about that. "Translate, please."

"Something they call 'New Year's Eve,'" Larry elucidated.

Xavier groaned. He now had a choice. He could try to get his fuel and leave without other contact, giving him nothing to distract him from Larry's surprising revelation. Or he could join in the party and drown the memory of Larry's forgetting in Carpintinarian rum, in hopes that by the time he sobered up he would have no recollection of Larry's descent into humanity.
###
About to drain his first tankard of rum, Xavier hesitated.

Always before, when he'd chosen to get sloshed dirtside, Larry had kept track--of him, of the ship of their Credits, and anything else that needed remembering.

What if Larry forgot?

Xavier slowly lowered the tankard, and slid off the barstool.

This was one New Year he'd skip celebrating.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2018
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Friday Flash: The Princess' Game

We got no new flash fiction challenge from Chuck this week, so I went back to the last one and picked another title from the list. I'd already decided to write another story for Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, so I just used the title to give me an idea where to take it. Larry makes reference to a couple of Xavier's previous attempts at a little R&R, so I threw in the links to those stories.

The Princess’ Game

“Larry, I’ve signed us up for a week’s R&R on G37-X.”

“Indeed.” The AI materialized in front of Xavier Xanthum (in his standard form, a pair of glowing eyeballs). His tone sent a clear message to the human half of the partnership that ran the Wanderlust.

“Do you have some objection?”

“Not at all, Captain.”

Xavier sighed. Larry only called him “captain” when he disapproved of something Xavier was about to do. This was probably about Xavier’s choice of a rustic retreat for his holiday. Larry liked vacation in high-tech centers where he could find new toys for Xavier to install in the ship.

That was the problem, of course: Xavier was a space explorer, which meant he made money by discovering valuable new planets. He hadn’t had much luck lately. He couldn’t afford a holiday in the Silicon System, or even at Sunset Strip in the Viridian System.

“I want a quiet holiday,” was the way he phrased it to Larry.

Larry's eyes turned a funny color. "Are you sure, Captain?"

Xavier scowled. Larry only called him "captain" when he thought Xavier was making a mistake. "Of course I'm sure. A nice vacation on a quiet planet is just what the banker ordered."

Larry sighed. For a moment Xavier was distracted. How could an AI sigh?

"What?" The double problem of Larry’s disapproval and his human reaction made Xavier’s tone sharp.

"There have been problems with some of the vacation rentals, Captain."

"Like what?"

"Well, there was that time on SLVD 3246," Larry began.

"That was a perfectly lovely island, and everything worked out fine," Xavier said. "I fixed your retro-thrusters!"

"And there was the planet that appeared to be a singlemountaintop." 

"Just a minor annoyance."

"And the planet claimed by the Krrg."

Xavier sighed. "I still regret that one. It was so lovely."

They were silent a few minutes.

"Still," Xavier said, "I need some time dirtside, and I've no credits for a resort planet. It's a rustic retreat or nothing."

Larry gave up, but he expressed his feelings by maintaining a chilly silence for hours.

##

DVST 5489 looked perfect. Best of all, the beach villa came practically free with a tank of fuel. Essential ship’s maintenance done, Xavier settled into the villa, the Wanderlust parked beside it. Some spacers left their ships in the spaceport, but Xavier liked to keep his close. 

It didn't look like he'd need to make a fast exit this time, though. The only other sentients around were a bunch of children, females of the local species. They spoke just enough Universal to tell Xavier they were sisters, daughters of the local ruler. Princesses. Xavier watched them play from his beachside lounge, an indulgent smile on his face.

When he woke up he was securely bound on his chaise longue. The princesses surrounded him, dancing in a wild sort of way. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Not worry!" Shouted the lead princess when she saw he was awake. "Is game!"

Xavier relaxed some, but he would have preferred it if their game didn't involve tying him up. The only being who knew where he was and might come to his rescue was Larry—but a ship's AI had no body, Larry's eyeballs notwithstanding. Larry had no hands to cut him loose from his bonds.

Xavier squirmed some as the princesses danced around him, and liked what he saw even less. Beyond the rather cylindrical creatures in pink lace--that seemed to be a universal requirement for very young females of almost any species--he saw a larger and older local kindling a fire on the beach. That wouldn't have been so distressing, but the large—really large—pot next to it made him wonder.

"Hey," he called, hoping Larry would hear, too, even if he couldn't do anything.
He could call for help. "This isn't funny any more. Can you let me go now?"

The head princess danced up to him again. "Oh, no. Must finish game. You good game." This time when she smiled, he saw that she had very sharp-looking teeth.

That was when he remembered that "game" had more than one meaning.

"LARRY!" Xavier would be embarrassed later by his plaintive wail, but right now, he just wanted someone to rescue him. "Get me out of here!

When the princess went back to the dance—which now looked distinctly sinister—Xavier set to work at the cords on his ankles. He could just reach them with the hands tied behind his back, thanks to the yoga exercises Larry had insisted he learn when he'd complained of being stiff after their last planetary adventure. It had been something to do in space, and he'd gotten pretty good at it. Now it allowed him to bend his heels up to meet his hands, and he picked at the knots. 

He was so absorbed in that task that he failed to notice that the fire was now blazing, and the circle of princesses starting to close in. All of them bared their teeth, and he saw no trace of the cute youngsters he'd watched with such pleasure before his nap. "Larry!" he wailed one last time as the creatures closed in.

A great shadow covered them all, and Wanderlust descended. The princesses scattered with shrieks and tears. Xavier kicked off the last of the ropes around his ankles and dove for the ramp that Larry had let down. Larry raised the ramp before the princesses could recover and come after them, tumbling Xavier the last few feet into the ship. 

Xavier lay panting as the ship lifted into near-planet orbit. 

"Do you wish to return to the rental office?" Larry asked as Xavier stretched and bent and squirmed to get his hands around front, where he could attack the knots with his teeth.

“No.” They could keep the rent.

"Where would you wish to go?"

Xavier gave a deep sigh. He knew what Larry wanted, and he owed it to him. "To Paradise. We'll get you those new sensors." Xavier didn't really even mind. They clearly needed better sensors, or better sense, and he didn't seem to be providing it.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2018
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Flash Fiction Friday: It Ain't Fixed Until You Break It

This week's Wendig Challenge was simple: write a story around the idea that sometimes you have to break something to fix it. I suspect he was thinking about politics, but it made me think of good old Xavier Xanthum, since he's pretty good at messing up. 

And hey--if you like flash fiction, consider joining us next week for the Fiction in 50 (words) feature. Write your 50 words, post your story, and link back to my #Fi50 post (goes live on Sunday).

It Ain’t Fixed Until You Break It

“Blethering belugans!” Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, cursed as he struggled to reach into the narrow adjustment slot for the left thruster, scraping the skin off three knuckles. Wanderlust was showing a decided tendency to veer off-course if he or Larry didn’t keep an eye on it, and Xavier wanted to save the cost of a repair.

Of course, Larry had two eyes he could keep wherever he wanted, along with enough bandwidth to do everything else around the craft at the same time. At the moment, he was adjusting their course for Xavier’s favorite vacation planet, watching the human struggle with the thruster, and fine-tuning the programming on the coffee maker so that it would produce a cup more exactly to Xavier’s liking. He was also, though Xavier didn’t know that, re-reading the works of Shakespeare.

Larry was the Wanderlust’s AI. He manifested himself (to Xavier at any rate) in the form of a pair of disembodied eyeballs, but he was the brains of the ship. The one thing he couldn’t do was anything requiring actual hands.

He could fuss, though.

“Captain, I can keep the ship on course until we reach Fiji 3. Then the spaceport crew can fix the thruster while you lie on the beach and drink those funny things you like—the ones with little paper umbrellas.”

“Piña coladas.” Xavier’s focus wavered as visions of warm sand and strong drinks danced in his head. He sternly pulled himself back to the job at hand. “I’ve got this. Just be patient, Larry!”

He’d have sworn he could hear whistling coming from the speakers as the AI pretended to be waiting. Xavier ground his teeth. He’d show that know-it-all Larry! Xavier Xanthum didn’t need to pay for some dirtside mechanic to fix his ship.

“I believe I have persuaded the coffee maker to produce the beverage as you prefer it,” Larry said after several minutes of quiet cursing from the human half of the space partnership.

“Huh?” Xavier, startled by the announcement, jerked and banged his head on the tight space. “Festering farge-worms! What the blarg did you do that for?”

“I merely thought you might enjoy a break and the opportunity of some refreshment, Captain.” Larry sounded innocent. Too innocent. When Larry called him “Captain,” Xavier knew that either he was up to something or something was radically wrong.

Xavier was pretty sure nothing was wrong, and coffee was exactly what he needed to clear his head. He crawled out of the service bay, glanced over the controls to see all was in order, and shoved off for the galley.

*
When he’d finished with the cup of coffee—strong, dark, and with exactly the right amounts of “milk” and sugar—Xavier prepared to return to his task. But Larry called his attention to a discrepancy in the nav charts, and he spent a couple of hours tracing the error back to a bit of salami that had left a deceptive stain at a crucial point on the manual used to calibrate the charts.

That called for another cup of coffee. Lunch was followed by a third cup, and only several hours later did Xavier squeeze his body back into the service bay. Taking up his tools, he prepared to finish the fussy adjustment. He could see now exactly what was needed.

Just a little prod here, and a nudge there. Oh, yeah. The third set-screw didn’t want to turn. That was what had been holding him up. He took a tighter hold on the screwdriver, trying to control the shaking of his hand.

Blast Larry, anyway. That coffee had been strong. Perfect, but strong. Now he had the shakes. He ought to go wait it out, sleep it off, something. Xavier suspected that was what Larry had been angling for--enough of a delay to bring them to port. He gritted his teeth and bore down on the set-screw.

With a sudden jerk of his hand, the screwdriver slid out of the screw head, dropped into the mess of tiny wires at the heart of the thruster-control, and in a shower of sparks the whole thing flared and died.

Coughing, choking, and cursing, Xavier backed out of the service bay.

“Larry!”

“I have it, Captain. Left thruster control is unresponsive, but I can compensate. We make landfall at Fiji 3 in 17 hours. Do I take it this damage is beyond your ability to repair?”

“Yes, curse you! Why’d you let me drink so much coffee, anyway?”

Larry offered no answer to what they both knew was an absurd question.

*
When they had completed docking procedures at Fiji 3—getting a priority slip due to the damaged thruster, which made Xavier smile for the first time in 17 hours—he left it to Larry to explain the problem to the repair crew.

“I’m going to the beach. Have fun with the repairs.” He stalked off down the companionway, fidgeted through the entry inspection, and disappeared in the direction of his favorite beach bar.

When he was gone, the mechanic stuck his head into the service bay, took a look, and backed out. “You’re going to need a whole new control unit. Looks like this one got thoroughly fried. Captain Xanthum tried to repair it himself?”

“For days,” Larry confirmed. “Until he slipped and it shorted out.”

“Well, that older model is the devil to adjust. We’ll put in the new version, and you shouldn’t have any further problems. Sometimes,” he added, “with a guy like Xavier, you have to break something before you can give it the real fix.”

“Is that so?” The floating eyeballs blinked a time or two. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

***

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2017
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer #AtoZChallenge

 

X is for Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer  

In a nutshell: Possibly the most luckless space explorer ever, Xavier specializes in getting into scrapes, and counts on Larry, his ship's computer, to get him out of them.

Biggest Secret: Most of the time, he thinks of Larry as human.

No quote, because you get a whole story! Xavier was invented several years ago to allow me to write a flash fiction for the A to Z Challenge, and he's hung around, with an ever-growing collection of tales of his adventures (see list under Short Stories, above). Today he takes another dive into a voyage of dubious desirability.

I also have a late-breaking reminder that this is #Flashback Friday. I'll consider this a flashback, even though it's a new story, because using Xavier for X is a bit of recycling!

Xavier Xanthum and the X-Galaxy Error

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, leaned back in his command chair and closed his eyes. He had just finished his greatest triumph to date over Larry, the AI who thought he ran the Wanderlust.

Larry thinks he knows so much, but I still have the navigational skills to plan a route better than any he proposed! Xavier savored his triumph.

This trip would prove, once and for all, that a human was better than a machine. Larry had laid out a course to Gamelon X, his best effort, but Xavier had found a way that would save two days, making use of a tight passage between two planets. Xavier’s time wasn’t worth much—he didn’t have anything to hurry for—but two days worth of food and fuel was money not spent. Rather, it was food and fuel he could use exploring, in hopes of finding something that would bring in enough cash to buy more supplies and head back out.

Xavier took a minute to savor his triumph, relaxing in his chair with a smile on his face. When he opened his eyes, a pair of disembodied eyeballs hovered in midair in front of him.

“What is it, Larry?” Xavier knew he sounded smug. He had a right to. Larry was just an AI. It wouldn’t even hurt his feelings, because an AI couldn’t have feelings. Xavier closed his eyes again.

“You changed my route, Captain.” The artificial voice sounded hurt. That wasn’t possible.

Xavier opened his eyes enough to squint at the eyeballs again. It was never good when Larry called him “Captain.” Was the AI trying to imply there was something wrong with his calculations?

“I found a way to save us two days.” Xavier sounded defensive even to himself.

“I think that might not be advisable, Captain.”

There he went with the “captain” again. “Oh, yeah? Two days, Larry. That’s a lot of credits worth of fuel. Credits I might spend on some new peripherals for you.” Xavier dangled the suggestion like a bribe.

“Only if we arrive.”

Xavier stiffened. “My calculations are good. Admit it: my human mind can see things your AI can’t.”

Larry was silent a moment, as though he needed time to think out his response. “Very well, Captain. We will take your route.”

“See? Hey, maybe you can learn to be human after all! It takes humanity to admit to making a mistake, right?” That silenced Larry. Xavier knew the AI was trying to be human, though Xavier wasn’t quite sure why. The infinite confidence of the computer seemed a pretty good deal to him.

“Yes,” Larry said eventually. “To err is human.”

Later, Xavier would remember that response as more ambiguous than he heard at the time.

***
Two days later, Xavier’s route began to fall apart. It wasn’t his fault, of courses. How could he have known that a Vargian fleet was holding maneuvers in what should have been empty space between the twin planets? The Vargians weren’t—currently—at war with the Post-Earth Federation, but that could change. In any case, they were never very friendly to Independents, and Wanderlust was registered as a free-lance explorer. Unfortunately, the space between the planets was narrow, and now it was crowded with Vargians. Xavier and Larry were in agreement that they didn’t want to get too close to the fleet.

Besides, the Vargians were using live ammo in their maneuvers.

Xavier re-routed around the far side of Varga B. He might have asked Larry to do it, but the AI claimed he was experiencing issues and needed to do some self-analysis and repairs. Xavier suspected he was sulking.

“Well, that will cost us one day, but I’m still a day ahead of your plan,” Xavier pointed out.

Larry said nothing.

***
A day later, Xavier was sweating bullets, his backside welded to the nav chair. Where in the cosmos had that festering asteroid shower come from? Lucky for him he’d recognized the danger in time, but now he had to run the ship manually while he worked his way back out of the danger. There was no question of either turning control over to Larry or of shutting him out. It took both of them to handle a crisis like this.

Xavier handled the controls, dodging the space-debris that Larry scoped for him. They were a good team, and had done it often enough to have it down to an art. The Wanderlust came through without a scratch.

When they were clear, some twenty hours later, Xavier fixed his sleep-deprived gaze on the fuel levels. They’d make it, but it was clear that the fuel he’d expected to save by his better route was long gone. Disgusted, he pushed himself out of the chair.

“Larry? Set a course and get us to Gamelon X. I’m going to bed.”

“Very good, Xavier.”

So Larry had dropped the “captain” bit. That meant Larry figured he’d won. Well, let him. Xavier strapped himself into his bunk and instantly fell asleep.

He woke up when the first signal came in from the spaceport. Unstrapping, he pushed himself over to the com unit, to run through the formalities for an unscheduled approach. How long had he been out, anyway? He’d have guessed it would take another 17 hours to reach Gamelon X.

“What the devil, Larry?”

“Is there a problem, Xavier?” Larry even managed to infuse a sort of innocence into his tone, a feat that as far as Xavier knew, none of the other AI could manage. The logs showed he’d only been asleep 12 hours, and fuel levels were much better than he’d expected.

“No. No problem. Just a little surprised how quickly we made it here.”

“I found a faster way, and saved a bit of fuel in the bargain. I do hope that was the correct decision?”

Xavier didn’t bother answering. Larry didn’t wait for him.

“Might I respectfully suggest that it is as we agreed…to err is human?”

***

Friday Flash: Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer

For this month, while I'm very busy trying to juggle a NaNo project and the release of The Problem With Peggy (Book 3 of the Ninja Librarian series), my Friday posts may be either short, photographic, or re-runs. Just a warning :)

Today, however, I got inspired and we have a full length (990 words) flash--another voyage with Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer.

Xavier Xanthum and the Alien

“Comet, we need some excitement.” Xavier Xanthum addressed the comment to the large black-and-white cat that lay, weightless, on his lap.

“I do not think it is wise to wish for excitement.” The answer didn’t come from the cat; to the best of Xavier’s knowledge, the animal couldn’t speak. The only other voice in his one-man spacecraft was that of Larry, the AI.

Xavier looked around for the floating eyeballs that Larry liked to use as his physical manifestation. “Why not? We’ve been in transit for a month, and I’m bored out of my mind. We need to do something to break up the trip!” He and Larry had been entertaining themselves by learning an ancient code he’d found in a book, one that worked by long and short flashes. That kept them occupied for a tiny part of each day. Managing the ship took another few minutes. Boredom was killing him.

“It is not wise, because you do have a tendency to stumble into more excitement than you enjoy.”

That was true. Xavier thought about some of his adventures. He’d not enjoyed them all. But time, distance, and boredom gave them a certain nostalgic luster.

“What could go wrong out here?”

At those ill-considered words, Larry sucked in an imaginary breath, and Kitty Comet shoved off Xavier’s lap and disappeared into the ductwork. Seconds later, the com unit crackled to life. First there was a noise they had to take as speech, then an image appeared on the screen. A being with four visible appendages, and two of what Xavier took to be heads, showed against the unmistakable—though very alien—backdrop of spaceship’s control center.

Finally the translator began to translate.

“Alien ship you are in our territory. Why should we not to vaporize you at once?”

Xavier thought. Mostly he thought that it was weird that the alien claimed empty space as its territory. Then he thought that he didn’t care to be vaporized.

“Uh, just passing through. My apologies if I interfered. Didn’t see the No Trespassing signs; we’ll move right along.”

The alien waited for its own translator to handle this, then the two heads swiveled to look at each other. First one head and then the other spoke. He didn’t think the thing had meant for this conversation to get translated, but computers did exactly what they were told, and theirs had been told to translate.

“We are commanded to destroy all threats.”

“This puny craft is no threat.”

“We can’t know that.”

“They appear harmless.”

“We must follow orders.”

“Uh, fellows? Mister?” Xavier cleared his throat and tried to figure out if he was addressing one alien or two. “I must say, I’m not a threat. No sir, not any kind of threat.”

“It is sentient. We do not destroy sentient beings without cause.”

“It is sentient. Therefore it is a threat. That is sufficient cause.”

Xavier listened, fascinated. He’d never heard anyone play good cop/bad cop with himself. The two heads went on arguing. Xavier muted his own com unit and asked Larry if they could get away from the alien ship.

“No, Captain. It is not even clear where the ship is, but we appear to be firmly held by an unknown force field.”

Xavier swallowed. It was never good when Larry started calling him “Captain.” He listened to the on-going argument. It seemed to have shifted from whether to destroy him to how to destroy him.

“Larry? Do your best to break that field, okay? I think we might be in trouble here.”

Just then, Comet shot back out of the duct. The cat had mastered zero-G movement, mostly. She over-shot Xavier, bounced gently off the com unit, and drifted, drawn by the motion on the screen. She swiveled her own head, following the argument. Then she began batting gently at the moving heads. Xavier reached out and put her back where she could pat the screen. Someone should enjoy this encounter.

The heated discussion of vaporization vs. laser broiling broke off. Both heads zeroed in on the cat. Four arms lifted as though to reach through the screen.

“What is this creature? Is it your leader?”

“It’s a cat,” Xavier said. “She’s a pet.” Screeches from their translator told him the aliens had no word for either cat or pet. “A non-sentient animal that offers comfort to a human companion,” he defined for them.

“This ‘cat’ offers you comfort?”

“I told you the alien is perverted,” the second head said.

“I would like such a ‘pet.’”

“You betray your duty.”

“You have no feelings.”

“Correct. The locus of sentiment is in your head. That is why I am the stronger.”

Xavier watched, fascinated, as the heads argued about the virtues of feelings vs. logic, all the while with their gazes locked on Comet.

The sentimental head addressed Xavier again. “Give us your ‘cat’ and we will release you.”

Xavier stiffened. He couldn’t do that to the creature that had arrived in a Christmas stocking two years back. Comet had been a tiny kitten then, a bundle of fur that stole his heart in seconds. But maybe Larry could use the demand to make an opening for escape. Xavier said something vague to the aliens, and looked around for the eyeballs. Larry hovered just out of sight of the com unit, blinking in the ancient Morse code.

Larry wanted him to agree? Xavier opened his mouth to argue. Larry blinked some more, and the space explorer stifled a smile.

Xavier interrupted the alien’s argument. “Very well. I will beam the cat over to you. You will need to lower the field that immobilizes me.”

And before the logical head could argue, an arm reached out, punched a button, and Larry blasted the Wanderlust out of range.

The last they saw of the alien, it looked like they’d be arguing for a long, long time.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2016
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

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Friday Flash: Sleep

This week Chuck Wendig challenged us to write a story in which insomnia plays some role. I picked on poor Xavier Xanthum again, and went just 3 words over the 1000-word limit.

Sleep

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, was regretting having landed on his latest discovery. Granted, it was what he did. And the planet looked good; money in the bank if it checked out. Larry’s scans had shown no particular hazards or dangerous life-forms.

Larry didn’t make many mistakes. Xavier was pretty sure, looking at the five-legged beast with very large teeth, that he’d made one this time. The creature looked dangerous, and Xavier didn’t want to stick around to find out if he was right.

The trouble was, he was too far from the landing pod to retreat. Xavier couldn’t even begin to imagine how a five-legged creature could keep track of its feet, let alone run, but he was pretty sure the mind behind those teeth knew the answer. There was only one place to go, and Xavier went.

The planet had a lot of plant life. Xavier had had to hunt for a clear place to land the pod, and had ventured into the forest—though the “trees” were like nothing he’d seen before—to inventory resources. Now he glanced up, happy to see that the strange plants at least had branches, and leapt.

If the planet hadn’t had lower-than-standard gravity, he couldn’t have managed it. As it was, his feet were barely out of range of those teeth when the creature charged. Xavier resolved to make more use of the fitness pod on the Wanderlust, as he did every time he got into trouble dirtside. Really, a space explorer ought to be able to do one pull-up, anyway!

The teeth had taken up a station under the tree, and the beast had this much in common with Earth animals: it drooled in anticipation of a meal. Xavier climbed to a higher branch and made himself more comfortable.

“Comfortable,” Xavier decided an hour later, was a relative term. Nothing about his perch was comfortable except when compared to the first branch, or to being eaten by a set of large teeth with five legs. It did allow him to balance well enough to hold on with only one hand. With the other he dug out his communicator.

“Larry? Can you read me, Larry?”

“Location?” Larry sounded human, but his computer nature showed in his priorities. No “how are you?” or “what’s wrong?” from him. Xavier didn’t mind. He needed rescuing, and sentiment wouldn’t help.

“I’m not sure. Can’t you spot me?”

“Excessive vegetative cover.”

Xavier figured out that meant “too many trees,” and tried to figure out where he was.

“I’m about a 10-minute walk uphill from the pod.”

“Nature of the emergency?” For an AI with (presumably) no feelings of his own, Larry was pretty good at picking up on Xavier’s feelings.

“I’m stuck up a tree.”

“You are unable to descend?”

“There’s a large and I’m pretty sure carnivorous animal at the base of the tree.” He couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice. After all, Larry had cleared the planet as safe.

“I see.”

Xavier waited. Since an AI could think at amazing speeds, Xavier didn’t like the implications of his continued silence.

“Can’t you help me?”

As though reluctantly, Larry said, “I can’t even find you.”

“What should I do?!” Xavier couldn’t help it, his voice rose a bit, somewhere between petulance and panic.

“Hang on.”

Xavier broke the connection.

He looked down at the teeth.

He looked up in hopes of finding a better perch. Then he sighed. “It has to get tired of waiting sometime,” he told himself.

#

Perhaps he should have told the creature that it must get bored, because it didn’t seem to know.

The sun was nearing the horizon, and the teeth were still waiting. Xavier found a branch where he could sit more comfortably, but he couldn’t relax.

Nor, he realized, as the sun tipped out of sight and the animal still waited, could he sleep. He really couldn’t do much except hang on, and occasionally harass Larry in hopes of getting a better answer.

It was a long night. Part of the time he played word games with Larry, who of course always won. Being a computer gave him an unfair advantage when it came to vocabulary.

When it got cold, Xavier climbed around to different branches for a while, to warm up, then settled down to a joke competition with Larry. He could usually win those, because Larry was still working on understanding humor. He said it was the hardest human attribute to analyze. Between jokes he thought about lying down and sleeping.

The third moon was setting when Larry said, “I’ve located you. I’ve matched com signals and IR markers.”

“So can you get me out of here?”

“No.”

“Can’t you blast the teeth or something?”

“Not without blasting you as well. Is that your command?”

Sometimes it was hard to tell if Larry had developed a sense or humor.

#

When the sun came up, the creature sat up, stretched, and organized its five legs. Then it trotted off into the woods.

Xavier waited, not trusting the beast, until Larry reported that the creature was well away and moving steadily up the hill.

At last the marooned space explorer dropped to the ground, hobbling off as fast as cramped limbs permitted in the direction of the pod. He was nearly there when he heard a noise, and looked back to see a half a dozen of the five-legged teeth-creatures coming at him, moving fast.

Xavier discovered he could run. He cleared the hatch inches ahead of the teeth, and slammed the cover in manual mode.

Hovering over the clearing minutes later, he looked down. The animals sat in a circle, looking up. He thought about vaporizing them, but refrained. It was their planet, and now he was off it, they could have it. He was headed for Wanderlust and a long sleep.

#

Two hours later, Xavier Xanthum lay in his bunk, eyes wide open. He was looking at the ceiling, but still seeing teeth.

Insomnia.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2016
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Summer reading sale--The Ninja Librarian and Return to Skunk Corners--just 99 cents!

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Flash Fiction Friday: Starting with a Bang

This week's Wendig Challenge is deceptively simple: start with a bang. Interpret liberally, but the story must start in the middle of the action. Sounds to me like Xavier Xanthum is on the loose again (go here to find previous stories about the intrepid space explorer). Because if there is one character I've invented who is apt to be in the middle of a big bang, it's Xavier Xanthum.

In just over 1000 words, I present...

To Be, or Not to Be

“Emergency posts. Assume emergency posts at once.” The computerized voice, flat and unemotional, was the strongest warning the starship Wanderlust could produce. When there was time, Larry liked to put emotion into the voice.

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, grabbed one of the straps along the wall and hung on, wasting no time or energy asking Larry what was wrong. He was still trying to fasten the buckles when a light flared through the ship, and a shock wave tossed the vessel around.

“Larry! Report!” Xavier had to wait for his eyes to recover from the flare, but he could feel that the ship was hurt. 

Larry didn’t respond.

Swearing fiercely, his abused eyes streaming tears, Xavier fumbled with the straps, released himself, and pushed off the wall, aiming for the pilot chamber by feel and habit as much as sight. He pulled himself into the navigation chair and strapped in, blinking rapidly and squinting to focus on the readouts in front of him.

No breech of the hull. That was the main thing. But no sign of Larry, either. “Larry? Report?” Xavier tried again. Still no voice, no glowing eyeballs. A line of plain type appeared on the screen.

“Solar flare. Extensive damage to computer core. Shutting down all but essential systems.” The line of type faded, and Xavier slumped. Larry was gone. All he had was life support and basic propulsion. He was on his own. A small noise at his feet drew his attention, and he looked down.

Not quite alone. Somehow Comet Kitty had survived the blast. Now there were two lives to save.

He could mourn Larry later. And maybe the AI would be back after repairs. It didn’t matter right now. Xavier needed to focus on getting out alive.

He’d passed all his astrogation classes back at the academy, but not by much, and that was a long time ago. Xavier had been in space for longer than he cared to remember, and now, staring at the instruments, he knew he’d gotten lazy, leaning on the much more efficient computer.

“Well, Comet, it’s time for a refresher course!” He glanced at the cat, which jumped onto his lap, curled up, and began to purr. She had confidence in him. Xavier wished he shared it, as he began the tedious process of manually determining position and locating the nearest planet with spacer facilities.
#
Three days later, the planet they approached sent a terse command. “Spaceport Bartleby calling unknown vessel. Please identify.”

So the automatic beacon had been knocked out, too. Or shut down. Larry might not have considered that essential, and Xavier started to sweat again. He’d relaxed as the trip went smoothly and his astrogational skills returned. That Larry had shut down the beacon scared him, because it was the last “optional” function before life support and directional control. It had been close.

What if they had to completely replace the computer system? Xavier had consoled himself for the loss of his friend by believing that, once the computer was repaired, Larry would be able to come back from wherever he had hidden himself in the depths of the computer. But if the whole thing was burned out, Larry was gone. A new computer wouldn’t have the sense of humor to manifest itself as a pair of glowing eyeballs. Or to play jokes on him, or recreate a Christmas morning, complete with a kitten in his stocking.

Would he want to go back to voyaging alone?

Xavier negotiated a docking contract with a maintenance station, and maneuvered into position, feeling lower and lower. And how could he explain why he preferred to repair the current computer at all costs, rather than upgrade to a brand new and no doubt more powerful machine? If he started talking about Larry, they’d lock him up as another spacer gone space-crazy.

Maybe he had.

He’d still rather have Larry.

#

“I’m not made of money. Repair, don’t replace, unless there’s no hope.” He’d found the one reasonable explanation for his desire to retain the original computer, and backed it up with the second most compelling argument. “I don’t believe in waste. I always repair things.”

The technicians eyed the well-worn shell of the Wanderlust, nodding, and Xavier blushed in spite of himself. He knew what they were thinking, and they were too right. He made enough from his explorations to pay for the next trip, as a general rule. Nothing left for fancy upgrades. This repair was going to put him in a hole, too. He’d better hope to find a planet worth discovering, and soon. Though he’d write up the experience of the flare and his trip to Bartleby for Explorer’s Magazine, and rate the repair dock, too. That would bring in a little cash.

“We’ll do what we can for your computer, but it’ll take a few days. Might as well head dirtside and enjoy yourself,” the head tech said. He eyed Comet, who sat like a queen in Xavier’s go-bag. “How long since the cat was dirtside?”

“It’s been three months for me, six for her. Our last port didn’t like cats.”

“Reckon she’ll pass,” the man said with a shrug, and Xavier entered the elevator.

“Keep me posted about the repairs.”

#

Xavier held the wake two days out from port. The auto-pilot was working perfectly. Everything was working perfectly.

There was no sign of Larry. It was time to accept that the flare had burned him out of existence.

Xavier poured himself another drink.

“I’m gonna miss Larry,” he told the cat, and started to cry.

“Don’t get maudlin. You’re drunk.”

Xavier sat very still. The voice had come from all around him. It didn’t sound like Larry, not exactly, but…he looked at the cat. Comet had gone to sleep. If she wasn’t talking to him, that left only one possibility. He turned around slowly, and stared.

A pair of eyeballs glowed back at him. Xavier would have sworn they were grinning.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2016
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Friday Flash: World of Flames

There was no Wendig Challenge this week, but I went back a few weeks, found the random title generator, and decided it was time for Xavier Xanthum to return, to explore (in exactly 1000 words), a

World of Flames

Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, lay back in his com chair, Kitty Comet a pool of warm fur on his lap. Xavier’s finders absently twined in the cat’s soft pelt while he contemplated a catalog of possible destinations.

“Larry, what about ZE742?”

“Inhabited, and currently at war with the Zarathustrians, Captain. I wouldn’t recommend it.” The computer, Xavier thought, was getting all too human. His voice was as dryly sarcastic as Xavier himself could make it. With reason: the Zarathustrians were among the galaxy’s nastiest inhabitants. Landing on a planet with which they were at war would be a painful sort of suicide.

“Right.” Xavier gave an equally dry response. “What about ZE803?”

“It’s a big war.”

“A different system, then.”

“I would recommend that, yes.”

Xavier went back to petting the cat and staring at readouts. Comet purred and closed her eyes. “Here’s one, Larry,” Xavier said after an hour or so, during which he had nodded off three times. His feet were cold, despite the climate control on the ship and the warm cat on his lap. It might be nice to go someplace hot. “ZG003214. I don’t see any info on it. Is it unexplored?” Xavier might have nodded off earlier, but the prospect of an unexplored planet woke him up thoroughly. As a Space Explorer, he made his living finding places no one had mapped, sussing out the riches and risks, and selling the info to the relevant agencies or merchants.

“It appears to be unmapped.” Larry sounded excited too. Even an AI could get bored on a long voyage with no new discoveries, and this had been a very long voyage. They all needed a change, and Xavier was too broke to afford any ground time even at one of the low-end resort planets that could be found in this part of the galaxy.

“Let’s go check it out,” Xavier decided. “Run the usual searches and diagnostics as we approach, Larry.”

“Of course.” Now Larry sounded offended at the idea that he would do anything less. Xavier grinned.

If the planet wouldn’t support human life, they could still do a recon in the landing pod, and maybe find out something worth selling to someone. He hoped so. They needed some credits. Course set and Larry in control of systems, Xavier followed the example of the cat in his lap. He fell asleep.

It took two days to reach the unknown planet, during which time Xavier prepared the pod, studied everything Larry could find about the place—which took less than five minutes, as the place was truly unexplored—and played with Kitty Comet. They both enjoyed low-G yarn chases, which resulted in something like slow-motion feline ballet. Xavier even heard Larry chuckle at some of Comet’s antics, and wondered when the computer had learned to laugh. He’d long known Larry had a sense of humor, since it was often enacted at Xavier’s expense, but a laugh was a different matter.

About the time they were all ready to go nuts, the planet began to be visible on the vid screens as more than a dot.

“Funny color,” Xavier grunted, gazing at the as-yet-featureless orb.

“Red. Like the stories say about Mars.” Larry had been studying human history and literature, and knew a lot about where humans had come from. Since he was a computer, he could read at the speed of light, though he did claim to need a bit of time to process what he read.

“So what made Barsoom red?” Xavier had read a lot of old stories too and didn’t mind reminding Larry of the fact. Space exploration left a lot of time for reading.

“Iron oxide.”

Xavier nodded. Iron wasn’t as valuable as orichalcum, but it was an essential product. A planet rich in iron would be worth something.

A while later, as the image grew on the screen and more scanners came into range, Larry said, “Spectrum isn’t right for iron.”

“What, then?”

Larry gave a laundry list of elements and effects. “I regret that I cannot at this time say which it is.”

Xavier rolled his eyes. When Larry started sounded extra-formal, he was hiding something. “Let’s take a closer look.”

Later, Xavier would wonder how many times he’d said that over the years, and how many times he’d regretted saying it.

 Xavier watched as the world grew larger and larger, filling the vid screen. It made him uneasy, though he still could not see clearly what it was. It seemed to shift and flicker.

“Larry, is there something wrong with the vid screen? The planet jumps.”

“Running diagnostic,” Larry responded, then almost immediately, “Vid screen is functioning properly. Shall we enter orbit?”

Xavier nodded, picking up the cat as he stared, mesmerized, at the shifting image. “I’ll head for the pod in five minutes.”

Larry was silent for just long enough to make Xavier tear his eyes from the image and ask, sharply, “What?”

“I believe a landing would be ill advised. Sensors tell me that the temperature of the outer atmosphere is well over 200 degrees. Ground temperatures are estimated over 400 degrees. The planet is on fire.”

“It’s not just a heavy planet with a thick atmosphere?” That was common. An entire world in flames was not.

“No, Captain. The planet is on fire. There has possibly been some catastrophic event. I think it would be unhealthy to descend into the atmosphere and seek the source of the flames.”

Comet, who had also been staring at the flames, yowled agreement.

“I have removed us from orbit,” Larry reported before Xavier could answer. “Exterior sensors report unacceptable atmospheric conditions.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The planet is attempting to ignite our craft, Captain.”

Xavier, who only a short time before had entertained visions of a rest on the surface and a hefty deposit in his banking account, found he had lost interest ZG003214. “Take us out, Larry.”

It would be nice to go someplace cool.

Xavier Xanthum: X Marks the Spot

 

I checked our huge world atlas, and found no mountains starting with X. There are rivers in China, of course, but I don't know anything about them, so instead of doing research, I returned to my favorite space explorer, expressly invented for my first A to Z Challenge...Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer! Here, at half-flash size (just over 500 words) is a bonus fiction feature. I couldn't find any photos...

 Xavier Xanthun: X Marks the Spot

The Wanderlust gave a terrific lurch as it entered the atmosphere, and Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, felt his body stretch the crash straps as they decelerated at far more than the usual rate. He didn’t even have time to ask the computer what was up before another bump indicated that they were on the ground.

Xavier sat back and ran a hand under the straps to ease the tightness. “Larry? What was that all about?”

“My apologies, Xavier.” The computer’s voice sounded mechanical, which meant he was busy with other tasks. “The ground occurred a great deal sooner than anticipated.”

Xavier sat and worked that out. “The atmosphere was thinner than you expected?”

“Not precisely. There appeared to be an extrusion from the planet’s surface at this point. It was not on any charts.”

“We have charts for this planet?”

The computer fell silent for a minute, then the floating eyeballs that were Larry’s preferred manifestation appeared next to Xavier, who had started to unbuckle his safety straps. “You might not want to do that just yet. I am attempting to access charts. There appears to be some kind of local communications system.”

Xavier felt a stir of interest and concern. Inhabited planets were exciting. Often, too exciting. You never knew what might bite you.  An inhabited planet that wasn’t indicated as such on any charts was particularly worrisome. “What are you getting?”

Larry hesitated before answering. As a computer, he did not need to pause to marshal his thoughts, but Xavier had noticed that Larry liked to do so anyway. “The local sub-ether information system has provided a map.”

“Great! So what does it tell us?”

A moment later a map grid appeared on Xavier’s viewscreen. It showed a few concentric contour lines with an X in the center, the lines getting very close together indeed near the edges, indicating steep slopes in all directions. A little flag read, “You are here.”

“Zoom out, Larry. We need some context.”

Again, that odd pause before Larry answered, his tone completely flat and mechanical. “It will not zoom out. Attempting again.”

Xavier watched in fascination as the image fluttered a bit, and the flag was replaced with another text, rendered as “X marks the spot.”

“What spot would that be, Larry?”

“I believe it is the spot where we are.”

“How very helpful, Larry.” Sarcasm was wasted on the computer, but it made Xavier feel better.

“Would you like to attempt to explore further?”

Xavier gave it some thought. The planet was inhabited. The inhabitants had communications systems, which they used, apparently, to communicate as little as possible. His mind drifted off to the last planet they had visited, where settlers had built a lovely little resort by a warm ocean. “Let’s just go back and mark our X on that beach again,” he said, a little dreamily. He settled back in his chair, and the eyeballs lingered on him as his eyes closed, a smile playing about his face.

After take-off, Larry made some adjustments to the interplanetary chart. Hereafter, travelers would know that this world featured a very high mountain that went by the name of X. And some rather unhelpful inhabitants.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2015

Deja Vu All Over Again

I so much appreciated last week's Deja Vu post, that I decided to republish a Christmas Story from last year.

It can be hard to get into the holiday spirit when you're all alone in a space ship, but Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, is determined to try.

Xavier Xanthum’s Xmas

Xavier Xanthum switched off his book with a sigh and stared at the window.  He was in deep hyperspace, so the window was black.  Whatever was out there, space travelers had long ago decided they didn’t wan to see it.  When he was in hyperspace, then, the window served as a vid-screen.  Xavier called out, “Larry, give me a snowy village scene.”  He turned away while the computer worked on the problem, and found the disembodied eyeballs that were Larry’s physical manifestation watching him.

“You are troubled, Xavier?”  Larry’s voice came from the speaker on the wall, not from the eyes.  It took some getting used to, but Xavier and Larry had been together a long time.

“Larry, how long until we make landfall?”

“Approximately four weeks.”

“And how long since we celebrated Christmas?”

“What?”  Larry was taken aback, not an easy thing to do to a computer.  He recovered almost at once, however, and said, “You were on Gobulan D on December 25th four galactic years past.  It is an Earth-colonized planet, so they presumably celebrate Earth holidays.”

“Huh.”  Xavier couldn’t recall, but four years was a long time in space.  “What’s the date now?”

“Stardate 27358.49.”

Xavier made a rude noise.  “What’s the Earth date?”

“That is a meaningless concept.  You are approximately 40,000 light years from earth.”  Hyperspace really was an amazing thing. 

“Count the days from the last time we were on Earth.”  He reconsidered.  It had been decades since he’d been on Earth.  “Or from that holiday on—where did you say?”

“Gobulan D.”

“Count the ship’s days on an Earth calendar.”  He waited a moment, then demanded impatiently, “well?”

“By that meaningless reckoning,” Larry said with disapproval in his allegedly synthetic voice, “this would be December 24th.  Do you wish to know the year?”  For a computer, Larry could be very sarcastic.

 Xavier ignored the sarcasm.  “December 24th?  Then we,” he announced, “are celebrating Christmas tomorrow.”

“Very well, Captain.”  Larry really could be sarcastic. “In what way do you wish to celebrate this event?”

“In the traditional manner!” Xavier said.  “You figure it out!”

“Very well.”

And then Larry refused to say anything more.  Xavier, for his part, went to work on creating decorations.  He had no access to pine boughs or holly in the ordinary way, but Larry, when asked if the replicator could generate a Christmas tree, gave a curt “of course.  Santa will bring it after you go to bed.”

Xavier thought that was unnecessarily sarcastic, but he forgave Larry.  The computer didn’t like it when Xavier got irrational.  It made Larry nervous.  He played around with the lights to give the single living-working space on his ship a Christmas feel.

The basic flaw in his holiday plans, Xavier realized, was the whole gift-giving thing.  He’d been reading what the computer library called “classics of earth childhood,” and Christmas definitely involved the exchanging of gifts.  Well, he would just have to give Larry a gift, since there wasn’t anyone else.

That left him with the dual challenge of finding a gift for a sentient computer, and doing it in secret when Larry knew every item on the ship and saw everything.

And who would give Xavier a present?  He tried not to think about that.  He even re-read the first chapter of Little Women to remind himself that it was better to give than receive.  He wished there might be some starving immigrants he could give his breakfast to.  He knew it was all silly anyway.  Just something to pass the time.

Even so, Xavier felt a little excited when he woke the next morning.  He had found a sock and attached it to the sticky-tab nearest the air duct (as the nearest substitute he could think of for a chimney).

When he rolled out of bed—Xavier kept the g-field just strong enough that he didn’t have to strap in at night—and exchanged his sleep-suit for a work jumpsuit, he saw a small, weedy-looking fir tree next to the driving panel.

Instead of pushing the button to fold the bed back into the wall, Xavier took a closer look at the tree.  Two small, colored balls hung from branches too limp to support them.

“Larry?” Xavier called softly.  “Did you do this?”

The eyeballs appeared next to him.  “I studied 20th-Earth-Century holiday vids, and this seemed to be the most popular look.  It is something called a ‘Charlie Brown Christmas tree.’  And it was easy to replicate, using the program for—” Larry broke off, and finished lamely, “well, you could eat it if you wanted.”

“It’s lovely, Larry,” Xavier said not quite truthfully.  “And a tree needs a present.”  He pulled a small box from where he’d hidden it in his covers.  He thrust the box at the eyeballs, which got a little brighter.

“Thank you, Xavier.  Would you open it for me?”

Larry had no hands, since he didn’t really exist outside the computer.  Even the eyeballs were a projection, or possibly a hallucination.  Xavier opened the package, feeling a small surge of pleasure even though he’d filled and wrapped it.  “More memory for you!”

“I thank you,” Larry said.  Xavier could tell he was pleased.  He’d meant the memory plates as back-up, but Larry would make good use of the added capacity.

“I’ll install it right after breakfast.”

“I regret that I could not. . . .” Larry began, but Xavier was looking at the stocking he’d hung.  It was wriggling.  Xavier shoved off across the pod and lifted the sock, which definitely bulged and squirmed, from the sticky-pad.

“What in space?”  Man and computer spoke together, as a small, furry head popped out of the sock, uttering a plaintive mew.

“Where did it come from?”  Xavier asked.  You couldn’t make a kitten from the replicator.

“I have no idea,” Larry said.

“A stowaway?  For all these weeks?  And why come out now, to hide in my stocking?”  He cuddled the soft animal as he spoke, and it licked his hand.

“Larry, a bowl of milk, warm.”  The bowl appeared in the food slot, and Xavier held bowl and cat as the animal lapped the milk with enthusiasm.  He scanned the night’s instrument records, as his hand absently stroked the soft fur.  Only one anomaly appeared, far too close to them for a brief period and then gone, and that was too absurd to credit.

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©Rebecca M. Douglass