Drifter

Chapter 8: Be Careful What You Wish For



On the edge of a poorly explored and sparsely settled sector of space, Cavalier took on a full complement of passengers. A statistician, a professional gambler, a prospector, a comedian, an accountant, a teacher, a lawyer, and a mechanic filled the cabins.

One at a time the passengers reached their destinations. With every stop, they got further into poorly charted sectors of space. They landed at far flung outposts and half-built colonies. After two weeks, only the lawyer was left.

The pair passed the time with games of strategy. The lawyer’s name was Quibib. The man’s species was humanoid but sported an extra pair of smaller arms on the chest. He was very skilled at every game they played. It didn’t help that Eli was unfamiliar with all of them.

“It’s a world where the original inhabitants died out,” Quibib explained, “Something that is far more common than I care to see.”

“And now it’s been settled?” Eli asked.

“No. The only thing we’ll find there is archaeologists. They have an outpost next to one of the more important dig sites.”

“What do archaeologists in the middle of nowhere need with a big shot lawyer?”

“They didn’t say. The message only said that it was urgent. The down payment told me that it is serious,” he let out his people’s equivalent of a sigh, “Probably some squabble over the legal rights to a discovery. But who knows what such persons get up to on the fringes of civilization. The being that hired me has had several run ins with a rival at his university, a Professor Holukeen. It could have something to do with that.”

A few more long days and a sad, nearly lifeless world filled the cockpit’s windows. It took a worryingly long amount of time to raise the archaeologists’ camp. They told him to pick a landing pad and to do it quick. The woman on the other end of the brief conversation sounded scared.

Eli circled the camp several times before landing. No one contacted the ship to question this. He insisted that he escort Quibib into the main building. The lawyer hinted that the camp’s occupants might object to him being armed. Eli kept his gun belt on anyway.

A woman with cyan colored skin and long, dark hair sat against a wall, rocking back and forth, babbling to herself, the tadvash unable to interpret much of the gibberish. A few words got through, talk of rivers of blood, of piles of dead bodies, of vicious hunters.

A man with a centaur like body stumbled around. It was clear that his eyes had been removed.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Quibib asked.

“I didn’t want to see anything ugly ever again,” he answered mournfully.

As Eli and his passenger pushed their way deeper into the ruin, they found more people. Most of them were in some way injured. Many seemed to have gone mad. One sight brought them to a sudden halt, a room full of body bags.

They pressed on, eventually finding a room that had been well furnished. A few people sat around listlessly. One of them took notice when they entered, “You’re the lawyer?” he asked.

This man was a member of a species Eli had seen a few of here and there, a doughy people with glossy, bright yellow skin, like that of a banana. A tag on his jacket identified him as Ulo. The tadvash translated his facial expressions just as it did his words. He was scared.

Quibib approached him, “Yes. What happened here?”

“We found the vault about two months ago. It’s old, among the oldest structures on this world. Even with modern tech, it took till a few weeks ago to get inside.”

“And you found treasure? There is a dispute over the rights to treasure?”

“No. I wi-” Ulo stopped, sounding like he had caught himself slipping up in some way that wasn’t immediately clear, “It would have been for the best if it was.”

“Then what did you find? Why have you asked me to come here?”

“Him. We found him,” with that, he raised a hand, pointing his index finger at one of the people in the room.

It was humanoid, appeared to be male, wore immaculate and ornate robes. His face looked for all the world like that of a human, by far the closest to it that Eli had seen so far. But all of that took a backseat next to his wide grin, the grin of someone that is doing what they love the most in the world, with zero negative consequences.

“At first, we were shocked,” the archeologist explained, “How could anything be alive after being locked up in that place for so many thousands of years? Then he spoke. We understood him and he us, despite the fact that the tadvash treatment had not been administered. It couldn’t have been. The Sad’Daki only developed it a few centuries ago.”

“And what did he have to say?”

“He began to make offers, saying that he could grant any wish, anything that we desired.”

Eli and his passenger sat and listened as Ulo the archaeologist told them what had happened.

An old man whose best years were well behind him wished not just to regain his lost youth, but to have eternal youth.

“Done,” the grinning entity said, simple, but somehow sinister.

As if by magic, the old man disappeared, his clothes falling out of midair, pooling on the dusty stone floor. From that pile of clothes and gear, the crying of an infant began.

The nearest members of the dig team moved the garments. Sure enough, a baby lay there, his species matching that of the man in question.

Where could he have gone? And where could the baby have come from? This had to be some trick, some high-tech illusion. But how could this being have known what was going to be asked of it? Perhaps it was some educated guess. Afterall, eternal youth would be a common wish.

“What did you do with him?” one of the expedition members demanded, drawing a pistol and placing it against the being’s forehead.

It showed no trace of fear, just kept on grinning as it gave its answer, “I granted him his wish.”

“Tell me!”

“I already did. I granted his wish. I could grant yours as well.”

“I wish that I knew what the hell was going on!” the man raged.

The change came slowly. His eyes widened. The arm that held the gun fell to his side. The mouth that had made threats, became locked open in horror.

The others asked him what was wrong. He gave no answer, letting go of the weapon and staggering around, hands held to his head. Before long, he let out cries of pain and terror.

“I know everything!” with this proclamation his head exploded, spraying blood and gore in all directions.


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