One of the more frustrating aspects of experimenting with xenofauna is their unfortunate tendency to expire at the drop of a hat. But there is good reason for this.

If one’s environment remains relatively stable for long periods of time, maintaining the host of dormant biological systems necessary for dealing with excessive gravitational forces, temperatures, or fluctuating atmospheric conditions becomes unnecessary and eventually even detrimental to survival. Especially when you have yet to evolve an efficient means for energy extraction. Such systems are costly, after all!

Because of this, lifeforms tend to be highly attuned to the requirements of their native environments and none others, placing severe limitations on research. Transporting and storing these beings for any length of time—assuming one does not simply leave them in stasis—almost always requires enormous tanks of the highly-specific chemical soup that comes with them and a host of other indigenous life forms to make certain the flavor doesn’t go off.

If you don’t believe me, by all means, invite your local Exo-Menagerie Curator to lunch sometime, and ask how their Plobak worm exhibit is coming along. If they don’t outright assault you, you’ll be in for a very long conversation indeed!

But that is neither here nor there.

Even RA-291, as close as it is to our subjects’ preferred habitat, would certainly kill them within a matter of days… were it not for a rather ingenious device.

Enter the Vitality Enhancement Nexus for Universal Survival, or as we like to call it, the VENUS.

< A series of complex diagrams begins to flash on-screen >

While not a new technology, it has only recently become available for commercial use, affording whole new vistas of potential research. The system’s main function—if you hadn’t gathered from the name—is to integrate new survival mechanisms into its host based on a strict hierarchy of taxonomic need.

Convenient, what? How it does this is dash clever, but we shall return to that subject at a later date. For now, it is enough to say this process must be a slow one.

Again, at the drop of a hat.

Let us now return to our two subjects… perhaps, some few minutes after we last left off?

*

Naomi’s back hunched as yet another wave of—

*

No, no, you gormless pillock! Past that… further… …keep going.

… … …

My goodness. Are we quite certain they aren’t experiencing some—there! Stop! That should do fine.

Ahem! <mumbling…> —rop of a hat… ah! Let us now return to our subjects… after they’ve had a chance to catch their breath.

*

—crawled shakily back to the comfort of the shade and collapsed. She could still feel her heart pounding erratically through the skin of her face and, despite the sweat plastering her tank top to her body, gooseflesh raced up and down her spine. The sensation of her nails digging into her palms scarcely registered.

She had been a fool! Of course, ‘they’ would never have been so shortsighted as to create such exotic-looking plants with tactile phytotoxins. It would take a special kind of moron to fall for that. No, they would definitely have introduced an airborne component.

But she was not dead yet… and that gave her pause. Either the toxin had only been meant to incapacitate—a distinct possibility given the modern political climate—or it was still in the experimental phase. Possibly both.

“Hey, Marlboros?” the clerk’s voice drifted in weakly from her left. “I felt something strange.”

She rolled her eyes. “No shit? And it’s Naomi, you dunkin’ trash-nut!”

Although, now that she thought about it, her breathing was coming easier with every passing moment, and the nausea had long subsided. None of that jibed with her airborne toxin theory. They had only been down for a few minutes. If she had been in charge, she would have made certain any kind of recovery required an injection of anti-toxin at a bare minimum! You could never trust security to remain vigilant at all times.

That or…

Curious, she rolled her hand over to examine her wrist, but the flashing had gone silent. She could see no evidence it had ever been there at all. There wasn’t even a scar!

“Does your throat still hurt?” she probed.

“Are you serious? I think I broke rib!”

She tilted her head in acknowledgment before glancing back at him. However, the display had vanished along with the light. “Maybe it was a hallucination.”

“Maybe what was a hallucination?”

“Nothing. Just… I dunno. I’m probably cracking up.”

She began climbing unsteadily to her feet. She still felt far from stellar, but whatever had happened to them seemed to have run its course. And her growling stomach was reminding her of certain fundamental necessities.

The last thing she could remember before waking up in that pod was finishing up her class assignments and embarking on her daily sojourn for cancer sticks. After that, everything was a blur. There was no telling how long it had been since her last meal.

“I think it’s a little late to be worrying about that.”

Naomi spun to glare at the clerk. “Excuse me?”

The guy walrused onto his back, setting his gut to wobbling hypocritically before kicking his legs out to help him sit.

“How long have you been off your meds?” he asked.

Her eyelids fluttered in confusion for a few seconds before she realized they were not talking about her weight.

“I’m not crazy!” She hesitated. “Okay, I might be crazy. But can you blame me? Nothing today has been normal.”

He nodded absently, thinking. “What were you looking at? Before, I mean. When that light was flashing on your wrist.”

She hesitated again. “I dunno. Maybe nothing.”

“I doubt that. You did something back there,” he replied, tapping his chest. “To me. You just didn’t expect it to happen to you, too.”

“Look, can you drop it? It’s gone now, and I’m pretty sure it was some kind of hallucination from all these weird plants, anyway.”

He turned to look at her. “Then why did I see your wrist flashing, too?”

“Because…” She paused, struggling for any kind of rationalization. “Because you were the one to mention it! If we were both under the effects, just saying something about it would have caused my mind to latch on to the idea.”

He nodded slowly then began laboriously regaining his feet. “Okay. I guess I can buy that. But if it happens again, you tell me what you’re seeing before you do anything else. Agreed?”

She averted her eyes. In fairness, she had to admit to a certain degree of culpability. Assuming any of that had been real, there was an argument to be made that perhaps she should not have been so quick to press whatever buttons were shoved in front of her face. But other than the vomiting… and the rest… neither of them were particularly worse for wear, so she did not feel too guilty about it.

“Fine,” she allowed stiffly. “If it happens again. Now, come on. We need to find that lab before we bake to death out here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He slapped at his pale arms. “These puppies start to burn under anything over 60 watts.”

“So that gas station didn’t hire you as a solar panel?” she retorted instantly.

He could only smirk.

*

A minor clarification: human beings do not produce a photoelectric effect when exposed to sunlight. We have checked.

*

Mark trudged through the sand wearily, not sure why he was still following this woman. She was a complete loon… but she had a game plan. And that was more than he could say. Maybe it was because of how weirdly confident she was, it was hard not to get swept into the wake of her constant bullshit.

He glanced toward one of the huge, single-leafed plants slowly passing overhead. “Giant colo… things? My ass.”

“Most people call them Elephant Ears,” she informed him, overhearing. “In the U.S. anyway. You see them in flower gardens all the time. None this big, though. They must have been breeding these for a while.”

He quirked an eyebrow doubtfully. “Are you into gardening or something?”

“You could say that. I’m a horticulture major.”

He lifted his chin to signal his recognition despite having no idea what that meant. However, she fortunately elaborated.

“My parents run a landscape design business back home. Figured I’d keep it in the family.”

“Smart,” he admitted. Although he was pretty sure that was just a fancy name for a lawn care company. “I was going for a computer science degree, myself, but… I kind of got burned out. And then I ran out of money. So, you know. Food and all that.”

A faint blip sounded in his left ear, and he turned. But there was nothing there.

“Why didn’t you just move back—?” Naomi began, glancing over her shoulder, but stopped on seeing the look on his face. “What? What do you see?”

“I’m not sure. I thought I heard something, but…” He shook his head.

For a few moments, they peered through the sparse foliage. The leaves above were so large, only a few shrubs could find any purchase in the dim light they left behind, so you could see a fair distance despite the vegetation.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said finally. “Don’t see anything either. But that’s not surprising. A hidden government base isn’t going to just be out in the open.”

Mark sighed, not bothering to argue. From his view, the ‘government’ was much more likely to install a hidden base in plain sight than an out-of-the-way island somewhere. The more normal a thing looked, the less people payed attention to it. If there were a base of any size out here, it would require a certain degree of air and sea traffic just to remain operational. That kind of thing attracted notice, and that was before you considered the foliage.

Not that it mattered, because there was no way they were on Earth anymore.

“Where are we going anyway?” he asked instead.

Naomi turned to resume her stalk down the beach. That seemed to be her preferred gait. “We’re trying to find the source of the ammonia. We find that, we find people. They’ll probably take us prisoner, but that’s better than the alternative.”

Mark nodded, following the logic even if it was based on a false premise. “Okay. And how are you tracking the current?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Gas-Station-Employee,” she replied caustically. “How do you usually track ocean currents from the shoreline?”

“It’s Mark,” he said with a scowl. “Mark Bola.”

“Whatever. The point is, it’s an island. If we circle it long enough, we’re bound to find something. Maybe a drainage grate. Maybe a dock. Maybe even a village, if we’re lucky.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Mark said doubtfully. “But if you were trying to find the source of the ammonia, I think we may be going the wrong direction. I can’t smell it anymore.”

Naomi waved a hand dismissively over her shoulder. “You’re just used to it.”

“So you can smell it?”

“Of course I—” She paused to sniff at the air before striding purposefully toward the waves. Dropping into a squat, she scooped up some water and brought it to her face. “Shit. I think all that stomach acid must have burned out my nose. I can’t even smell the brine.”

Mark came up beside her and scooped up a handful of his own. “Huh. You’re right.”

Then he slurped some into his mouth.

“Idiot! Don’t drink it!”

He rolled his eyes and playfully spat it toward her. None of it hit her, but she jumped back anyway, splashing him back in instant retaliation.

“Asshole!”

He just calmly scrubbed the water from his face. “It’s not salty.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments before scooping up another handful and giving it a cautious lick. “Yes, it is,” she argued. Slowly.

“Not salty enough. It’s barely even noticeable.”

“Maybe there’s a river nearby,” she tried arguing.

Mark just looked from her to the very-obvious stretch of nothing-but-ocean-in-sight then back. “I don’t think so, Tim.”

*

No, Timothy. I very much doubt he could have been referring to you.

…?

Haven’t the foggiest. Some obscure mythological reference, I assume.

*

Naomi flicked some more water into his face. “Oh, whatever. There has to be some kind of rational explanation.”

Mark could think of one. But he just nodded along gamely. “So, do you think we should backtrack? The source of the ammonia might have been closer than we thought.”

“Maybe. Damn it.” She stamped her foot irritably. “What is the point of this? I mean, sure, breed up a grove of mutant Colocasias. Go nuts! But why the whole damned island? It’s ridiculous! I mean… what? Did they cut them all down, or did they somehow find the one place in the entire Pacific without a single coconut tree?”

Mark blinked slowly, trying to pick apart the threads of her diatribe. “You’re hungry.”

“Duh!” She closed her eyes and sucked in a calming breath. “Sorry. Yes. Mostly, I’m just frustrated. And I’m seriously jonesing for a cigarette right now—bastards stole my purse. But yes. I’m hungry.”

<Doo doot!>

Mark spun on hearing the definite, second chime in his ear. “There it was again!”

Naomi instantly went on the defensive, scanning the nearby undergrowth. “What?”

“It… sounded like some kind of computer,” he explained quietly. “Like one of those old ones. Booting up maybe?”

She frowned. “I still didn’t hear anything. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

They held there a moment, but the only sounds were those of the waves gently lapping ashore. “Come on,” Naomi said eventually. “Let’s go take a look. I’ll bet that was a camera or something. The bastards are probably watching us.”

Mark hesitated, but Naomi was already scurrying ahead of him. The last thing he needed was her getting lost on him. And he did not particularly relish the idea of getting separated from the only human being around.

“Since when do cameras make noise?” he called, following after.

She only paused long enough to glare at him. “Shh!”

He spread his hands, pleading his case to no one in particular. If ‘they’ were already watching, what difference did it make? But the almost jungle-like gloom bearing down on them as they strayed from the beach naturally quelled his chattiness anyway, so he let the matter drop.

Eventually, the sand began to fall away as well, gradually replaced, not with the dead plant matter one would normally expect, but with a thick carpet of reddish-pink moss which served to deaden their every footstep to almost nothing. He had never been anywhere quite like it.

It was so… moist. Cloyingly so. And hot. Not like in the direct sunlight of the beach. This place was more like a sauna. He almost could not breathe, it was so thick.

Pulling at the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to cool himself, he was about to suggest they turn back when Naomi stopped.

“Well?” she whispered. The sound of her voice died the instant it left her lips. The quiet in here was every bit as intense as was the humidity. “Where do you think it came from?”

He shrugged uncertainly, starting to doubt himself. He was having trouble imagining how any sort of noise could have escaped from here, much less over a distance. That said…

“Do you smell that?”

She scented the air carefully. “All I can smell is this funky crap we’ve been walking on.”

“It’s kind of…” He gestured with his hand, trying to find the word. “Sweet?”

“What kind of sweet? Like rot or…?”

“No,” he said slowly. “It’s kind of fruity.”

She perked up. “Fruit? Where?”

He scowled. What did she think he was? A bloodhound? But before he could open his mouth, another sound spun him in place.

<Boop>

“Tell me you heard that.”

“Dude, I haven’t heard jack,” she quipped. “Are you sure you’re not the one off his meds?”

He narrowed his eyes. Something fishy was going on. There was no way she could have missed a sound like that in a place like this.

“Come on,” he said, starting off again.

As she fell into step at his side, she gave him a considering look. “Hey, uh… Matt?”

“Mark.”

“Mark,” she agreed without missing a beat. “How can you be sure you’re not imagining this sound?”

“You think because you were seeing things, I might be hearing things?”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Maybe not. You said it sounded like a computer, right?”

He nodded.

“Then it’s… similar.” Then more quietly: “But why would the interface be different?”

He glanced at her, curiosity piqued. But then he caught something else in the air. “That smell is getting stronger.”

She nodded in slow acknowledgment. “Yeah… yeah, I think I’m getting it too, now. Weird. My sense of smell is usually a lot better than the guys I meet.”

He could only shrug. Ordinarily, he would have said much the same. But the other way around.

“Do you think,” she began hesitantly, “maybe the two are related? The smell and the sound, I mean.”

“Why would a computer smell like fruit?”

She punched him in the shoulder.

“Ack! Hey!”

“Shh!” She glared at him, then cast a significant look at their surroundings. “No, you moron. I mean, did you consider that the sound might be leading you to the fruit?”

“Yes!” he hissed, rubbing at his shoulder. “The thought had occurred to me. I was kidding. I make jokes, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“You think being stupid is funny?”

“What? You never heard of clowns?” Scowling, he started walking again. “What I don’t get is why a computer would be leading us to fruit, of all things. And that’s if it even is fruit. It could be anything.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” She jerked her chin toward a spot ahead of them. “I see some light over there. Might be a clearing.”

Sure enough, within some several dozens of paces, they came upon an area where one of the huge plants had fallen, leaving a gap in the canopy. In its place had grown a large stalk topped by what had to be the source of the aroma.

Naomi snapped her fingers. “Uh huh! I knew it! That is the fruit of a Corpse Flower.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Corpse Flowers? They’re super famous!”

Mark just stared blankly.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “They’re these huge-ass flowers, like eight feet tall, that grow in the tropics. Smells like rotting meat. I got to see one once at this botanical garden I went to in England. School trip.”

Mark looked from her to the fruit. It sort of looked like a blackberry… if blackberries were the size of a full grown man. But the color was right. He pointed inanely.

“That doesn’t smell anything like rotting meat.”

“Well, duh! That’s the fruit, not the flower. Anyway, its in the same family as Colocasias. I’m betting somebody is out here doing agricultural experiments.” She thumped her fist against one of the nearby trunks. “You can get taro root from these, you know.”

Mark scratched his head. “Taro? Isn’t that… like a boba tea flavor?”

“Yes,” she pronounced patiently. “Like the boba tea flavor. Now, come on! I’m starving.”

Mark hesitated a few seconds before following after the girl. “Okay, but do we even know whether… Corpse flower fruit is edible? I mean… its got corpse right in the name!”

She waved him off. “I’m sure it’s fine. Why would they bother cultivating them if they weren’t safe to eat?”

“That… uhm…” Mark floundered uncertainly. There were so many things wrong with that argument, he was having trouble landing on one to start with.

*

Many of our viewing audience are doubtlessly wondering how it is that such a preponderance of RA-291’s flora could so closely resemble those of our subject’s homeworld. To that we can only speculate.

Though it should be noted that while evolution can and will produce a host of varied life forms, it has no obligation to maintain that variability. Showing up to the ball with the same dress will ruffle no feathers, and young Rebecca need not fear for rivals spilling punch over her gown. That said, it is what is under the dress that counts.

Indeed, while their olfactory senses have rightly drawn them to a cache with high concentrations of fructose—one of the few resources from which the human body can extract chemical energy—they remain completely blind to a plethora of other biological compounds which are so foreign to their guts’ microbiome… well. Let us just say that young Rebecca’s dress may well be hiding a rather unsightly bulge.

None of which is of particular import at present, because they have also failed to detect the indignant hexapod upon whose territory they have trespassed.

*

“Um… Naomi, I really think we should—”

Wham!

Before he could so much as blink, a flash of brown streaked from above to smash the girl to the ground below. His conscious mind barely registered the next few seconds. There was only flashing teeth, ripping claws, and screams.

With a shout, he charged the beast like the linebacker he had never been. It was the thud of their bodies colliding that finally brought him back to his senses, upon which he discovered an extremely irate bundle of fur struggling in his arms. Though, ‘struggle’ may have been a slight exaggeration. The creature felt like it was made of wet soap and knives.

He tried vainly to gain control of the thing’s claws, but there were too many of them! That, combined with the way it kept twisting and biting, left it next to impossible find any purchase without sustaining serious injury in the process. But that ship was rapidly sailing, so he leveraged the one advantage he had and rolled over to suppress the creature with his weight.

It… kind of worked. Briefly.

“Marlboros!” he gritted through his teeth as the thing started burrowing its way to freedom. “Do something!”

Panting and trembling with adrenaline and the growing ache of wounds her mind had not yet registered, Naomi spared a glance for her valient-but-incompetent savior. The only thought in her head was to run. Run far and fast.

However, just as she was stumbling to her feet, her vision flashed. For half a second, some sort of icon highlighted a nearby outcropping of rock just peeking out from the ubiquitous moss carpet then drew a line connecting it to the nose of the creature even now struggling to claw itself to freedom.

Her eyes widened with dawning comprehension. “Keep holding it! I’m coming!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?!” he wailed shrilly. “Jesus, it hurts!”

Naomi tried to block out the screaming, but it did little good. He sounded like he was being ripped to shreds. All she could do was bear with it while she tugged at the rock, hoping he could hold out long enough for her to free it.

She jerked and wiggled at the thing desperately. In a distant part of her subconscious, she had a vague recollection of a friend inviting her to to take advantage of the free gym membership the school had offered. She had scorned the offer then. She was a girl. What did she need with muscles?

Now, she knew. But she could only regret.

With a final yell, she pulled with all her might, and the rock finally came loose. It was as big around as her head and probably weighed a good sixty pounds, but she could not worry about things like whether or not she could actually lift the thing.

Turning just in time to see the bloody mess the creature was making of the attendant’s ribs, she let out a primal battle cry and charged. She only managed to pull the rock up to the height of her chest, but that was enough. Combined with the momentum of her charge and the simple force of gravity, the rock connected with a sickening crunch!

The beast let out a yelp like a kicked dog, but that only fueled her fervor. Again, she lifted the rock. Again, she smashed it down. And again. And again. Until her arms were so weak they felt as if they might snap loose from her body. Until the creature fell silent.

For a long while, she only sat there, trembling. And crying.

However, the damnable thing in her eyes kept on flickering with static whether they were open or not. It was then she realized that her friend was not making any sounds either.

“Mike?” she called, shaking him wanly. “Come on, guy… don’t do this to me.”

He did not respond. She was not even sure if he was breathing.

Her teeth started to chatter with fear and repressed panic. Her eyes quickly scanned the area, but she was not even really sure what she was looking for. Something. Somebody.

“Help!” she shouted.

No one answered. The gloom of the strange forest around them was as oppressive as ever.

“Help!” she tried again, longer and louder. Loud enough, she felt her vocal chords starting to tear.

Still, there was nothing. Not even an echo. The forest ate sound like a sponge.

She could feel it then. In her bones. She was alone. No one was watching. No one could see. No one could hear. Help would not be coming.

There was only the constant flashing at her wrist.

“What do I do?” she said, struggling not to completely fall apart.

Surprisingly, the thing in her wrist responded. With a flicker, a series of images began to appear before her. Of bloody wounds. Strips of leaves. Moss. Twine. Bandages.

And the first step, so it claimed, was to pick up a shard that had chipped away from the stone she had just been using. It was not quite knife sharp, but it would do.

Nodding grimly, she set to work.

*

Botheration.

It never fails, does it? Just when the narrative is starting to become interesting, the episode comes to an end, and everybody has to wait an entire week just to see what happens next.

‘What about the VENUS device?’ you’re probably yelling. ‘What made the subjects so ill? What about the ammonia? Why would the moss be pink?’

Find out next time. In:

The VENUS… part II.