Memory Soup
Part 1
By Emily M. Hanson
* * * * *
Kilroy's eyes narrowed as he checked the coordinates displayed in glowing emerald characters on his monitor: Quadrant 28, Sector 11Z. The information did not ring any bells. He frowned, checked his navigational log, and frowned again. Despite the old navigator's saying, "You're never lost until you run out of space," Kilroy had to admit that he had no clue where he was. To make matters worse, he was running low on fuel.
He checked the short-range scanner and discovered that there was a small planet nearby with a moderate level of technology and a well-sized population. The scanner also indicated that the atmosphere was breathable and that a source of fuel might be found underground. Kilroy decided to land and found an uninhabited area within several days walking distance from a city. He enabled the Copernicus' heat shield, slowed as much as he could, and switched on the landing thrusters.
* * * * *
Horatio Galaxius had taken advantage of the unusually clear night sky and was using the telescope his parents had given him for his birthday. It was nothing more than two lenses and a mirror placed within an iron tube, but one could see a good many objects in the sky with it. Currently, he was looking at a constellation called the Hourglass, which contained the red giant his father had named Hercules. As he adjusted the focus to get a better view, a bright flash blinded him. He cried out in pain and stumbled backward into his twin brother, Hamlet.
"Great galaxies, Horatio! Watch where you're going!"
"How am I supposed to watch where I'm going," he replied irritably, "if I can't see?"
His brother looked apologetic. "Sorry."
The same light he had seen filled the room and disappeared.
"What, by all the planets, was that?" Hamlet wondered aloud.
"A comet, perhaps, or a meteorite," he suggested. "I would like to get a sample, if it is a meteorite."
"Look," his brother exclaimed and pointed to a bright point of light on the horizon that was declining rapidly. "Is that it, do you think?"
"What else could it be?"
"It's going to land south of us, near the Mitzelgranian mines. Shall we tell Father?"
"If we tell him, he will just forget about it after we leave," Horatio pointed out. "No, I think it would be wiser to leave a note."
"Agreed."
In his study, Cosmo Galaxius appeared frustrated. "Now where in the universe did that bottle of ink go? I just had it! Dominia, dear, have you seen it?"
"It's in your left hand, Cosmo," she answered.
Startled, he looked down. "Oh! Now, what was I going to . . . ah, yes." He sat down at his desk, dipped his pen into the bottle, and began to write on a piece of water-colored paper.
Dominia watched with interest. She was a tall woman with velvety skin the color of cream. Her long hair was dyed indigo and piled onto her head, held together by jeweled combs. Her eyes were violet. She wore a dress made out of a material Cosmo had invented, which consisted of tiny mirrors attached to a piece of silk. It shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. She was over three hundred years old, but did not look a day over twenty-five. This amazing accomplishment was due to something on the planet Mitzelgran, which had become her new home. Exactly what it was, no one knew, but it impeded the aging process in humans. Cosmo had spent a century trying to discover it, but he eventually gave up.
Cosmo appeared to be in his late fifties. He had grayish-brown hair and brown eyes, and recently had begun growing a mustache, which he was rather proud of. He was approximately the same height as Dominia, and was thin because he often forgot to eat, even when she brought him food.
"Blast," he muttered.
"What's wrong?" Dominia inquired.
"I forgot the rest of the formula."
"Let me see what you have so far."
Recently, Cosmo had been entrusting his wife with information he wanted to remember. He had always been absent-minded, but his memory was deteriorating at a phenomenal rate. One day, he had discovered a particular mixture of plants that caused him to remember things he'd forgotten. Unfortunately, the effect was only temporary. Finally, after several weeks, he remembered to write the recipe down. "Memory Soup," he called it, because the ingredients did make a pretty good soup.
"Hmm . . . one cup of ethereal mist; two tablespoons of spiceweed, finely ground; one blackroot; two cups of greenberry juice; one-half cup of chopped dragon's tongue stems . . . oh, you forgot one cup of starflower petals and three spiderblossoms. I shall write them down for you."
"Thank you, my dear. The hour is late, and I shall retire soon. Remind me to gather the ingredients in the morning. No, better yet, have the boys do it."
"Yes, my love." Gently, Dominia kissed him. "Good night."
"Good night."
Mitzelgran's four moons arched across the sky. The two largest, which Cosmo had named after his twin sons, were at their zeniths. The medium-sized blue moon, Dominia, had not quite reached its peak. The smallest of all the moons, Galaxius, was just beginning to rise. It would not reach its pinnacle until a few minutes before dawn. The night was halfway over.
The twins had taken all-terrain vehicles and were crossing the silvery-white mountains that surrounded the small village of Atlantis. The short-range scanner indicated that a large object, primarily made of metal, was located thirty kilometers ahead. What was strange about it was not the fact that it had fallen out of the sky, but that it was constructed out of titanium, an element not found on Mitzelgran.
"We may be dealing with a spacecraft here," Hamlet remarked.
"My dear brother, you have an extraordinary gift for stating the obvious. The only questions that remain are: Where did it come from, and who brought it here?"
"Is it possible this spacecraft is from Earth?"
"Anything is possible. Some things just have greater probabilities of occurring than others. It is highly unlikely that this spacecraft is from Earth. It's probably from somewhere in the Antarian system or the Zeylonian system. Both trade with Earth and are much closer to our world."
"I suppose you are right, Horatio."
"In any case, I suggest we prepare to meet the traveler, or travelers, that have chosen to grace us with their presence."
* * * * *
Kilroy stumbled out of the Copernicus. He was wearing a neon orange environmental suit, which made him feel just a bit silly. The gravitational pull of the planet was lighter than the standard pull of most planets, so it took him some time to get used to it. It was then that he saw the twins on their land vehicles coming towards him. Astonished to see humans on this strange and distant world, he gaped at them.
"Welcome to Mitzelgran," Horatio said as he came to a stop. Then he did a double-take. "You're human."
Kilroy shrugged. "Were you expecting someone else?"
"I'm Horatio Galaxius and this is my brother, Hamlet."
"Kilroy March. That's my ship, the Copernicus."
"Looks like a beauty, but I'll bet she could sure use some repairs," Hamlet remarked. "We can help with that, if you don't mind staying with us for a day or two."
"No, I don't mind. Is there some place official where I have to register or anything?"
"Not really. The Mitzelgranians don't care. Atlantis is the only human colony on this planet. No one's landed here for decades. I may look 20, but I'm actually 41. There's something here that slows down the aging process in humans. My father is over 300 and can barely remember his own name. Luckily, he's got us and our mother to take care of him."
Kilroy marveled at the idea of living for so long. Sure, plenty of non-human species could live for centuries, but the average life-span of most humans was around 110. There had to be a way to capitalize on this. He'd go back to Earth, take out a loan, and hire scientists to test the air, water, and soil. Then they'd set up a corporation to bottle and sell it, whatever it was. The universe ran on credits, not charity. As long as it wasn't illegal, he would make a profit.
Kilroy hopped onto the back of Hamlet's vehicle and they sped off. A few minutes later, a robotic whirring sound was heard and a shiny metal drill broke through the sand. Several moments later, another drill broke through, and another. Clamps were fastened to the Copernicus and it was lowered below the surface, where the mazes of the Mitzelgranian miners' tunnels stretched for thousands of kilometers. By now, Kilroy and the twins were in the outskirts of Atlantis.
* * * * *
