A Way Out of the Desert

The knock came at 0600 hours on the button. Clarence pulled his head out from under the kitchen faucet and looked at dust floating in the light beam under the front door. He spat a mouthful of gritty water into the sink and grabbed his turbo-blaster off the counter.

"Who's there?"

"Casper told you we would be departing at this time," said a rigid female voice.

Clarence snatched his poncho off the floor and pulled it over his head as he walked to the door. He reached up with a big black hand, undid the deadbolt, and opened the iron door with a clang. Sunlight flooded in and the shape of a humanoid looked down at him.

"Silverback Gorilla. Thirty-five cycles old. 219 kgs. Three-meter arm span. You certainly look fit enough for the job... considering your age." said the woman.

"I'm thirty-two, lady. Who are you? And where's Casper?"

His eyes adjusted and the shadowy figure came into view. She was an older model synthetic with bronze skin and short-cropped curly hair dressed in desert gear; flat-footed boots, water preserving jumpsuit, goggles, and a billowy white scarf wrapped around her head and shoulders.

"Mimeo-Wandergraph, you may call me Mimi. I've recalibrated my age indicator. Casper is in the car. Follow me and maybe cover that head of yours."

Clarence pulled on his helmet, flipped down the visor, and yanked the poncho's hood over top. Underneath, he wore spacer boots and custom made leather combat fatigues that matched his blue and orange helmet. He was overdressed for the climate but he was wearing everything he owned. He holstered his blaster in a diagonal sling worn across his chest.

The lanky woman and the squat knuckle walker made their way across the empty boulevard. Sun-bleached sandstone buildings were shuttered against the morning light. Mimi went around to the driver's side of a parked dune buggy that was mostly engine with a front windshield and two rows of seats under a tarp. Clarence climbed into the passenger seat.

A meter-long tree frog swaddled in a white toga lay across the backseat. The squeaking shocks on the oversized rubber tires woke him and he lifted his goggles to reveal big red gooey eyes. He splatted three disc-tipped fingers on the seat and pulled himself up.

"Ah, Mr. Diamond, are you ready to depart this planet?" said the frog.

Clarence settled into the seat, his short legs not reaching the floor.

"Yeah, I've had sand in my fur for a week. You were a little fuzzy about the plan last night?"

"I can only image. I'll fill you in as we drive. Mimi, to the rendezvous."

The synthetic fired up the old combustion engine vehicle, jammed it into gear, and weaved her way toward the edge of town via side streets. Casper laid back down and spoke up into the canopy.

"You've met my partner Mimeo. She's my driver, pilot, and bodyguard. She's a reprogrammed Zero-G commando."

"I'm a free-thinking individual, thank you," corrected Mimi.

"And a brilliant one at that. She also handles strategic analysis for me. My plan—"

"The plan," said Mimi.

"Yes, the plan... is simple. There's a Jakz smuggler launch platform out in the desert. No vehicles are allowed to or from it. Then there is no trace of activity and plausible denial for the local authorities. One hand washes the other and it's business as usual."

"Yet, a Grandor arms dealer is using the platform to sell weapons to the locals," interjected Mimi.

"That's right! And though we Jakz have no interest in war games, we don't want other smugglers drawing attention to our platform."

"So this is more of a turf thing and not so much a ship boosting job," said Clarence, "that's why you wanted the extra muscle."

He took out his blaster, made sure it was in perfect order, blew on the barrel, and stuffed it back under his poncho.

"It's a two-parter. We're stealin' an expensive fast ship and we're making a statement would-be smugglers will think twice about. For you, my fine simian friend, a free ride off this dust ball and I'll put you on a freighter to the next system."

They cleared the edge of town without issue and headed out into the endless white sands. The city behind them backed up against espresso colored mountains. The rolling desert ahead covered three-quarters of the planet.

"So, arms dealers. What kind of numbers are we talking? They tend to protect their merchandise in my experience."

Casper sat up and put a glistening hand on Clarence's shoulder.

"When I saw you sitting in that bar last night I knew you were the man for the job."

"Ape."

"Yes, the ape for the job. That's what I said, right Mimi?"

She glanced over at Clarence and smirked while pulling away from the sand-covered road that was swallowed by roving dunes.

"I saw you and it was the first time I saw anything like you. So big, so hairy, so fierce, so noble. I'd heard of your species. I know about mercenary factions kidnapping your people and turning them into super soldiers. How Palavonte gorillas have been tearing through Grandor shock troopers like they where matchstick men."

"I've got nothing against Grandor anymore. I'm done with the war."

"Yes, of course, but you still wear the uniform of a soldier. Still carry a weapon specially designed for your species."

Clarence squeezed the custom-crafted wooden grip that fit his palm like a glove.

"What if I told you, this particular arms dealer sells weapons to rebel mercs?" asked Casper.

"Then I'd tell you, he deserves whatever he gets. What kind of crew are we talking and how are we getting out there if we can't drive?"

Casper flopped back in his seat, opened a water bottle, and tossed one into Clarence's lap.

"Mimi."

She was driving fast over the dunes jumping all four tires off the ground between drifts. Clarence held onto the roll bars and attempted to drink. It wasn't terribly hot yet, but it was still morning.

"The target travels with a mechanic and five robots; two pilots and three sentinels," said Mimi.

"Three versus seven. We'd have to kill four just to even the odds. What kind of sentinels?"

"Our source says they're repurposed Ibi-Ero assault robots."

"Fuck me."

"Bet you faced them before," said the frog from the back seat.

"Yeah, I have, and they tore us to pieces. Murderous unfeeling nightmares."

The three road on in silence for another hour. Then as if out of nowhere a line of black dots appeared on the blinding white horizon. Mimi corrected course and headed towards them. The line of animals disappeared and reappeared as they went up and down the dunes. The closer they got the bigger they appeared.

Casper leaned forward between the front bucket seats.

"Camels, the ship of the desert."

"That's how we're getting to the platform?"

"Not the smoothest ride but they get the job done."

Through the windshield the bizarre animals come into view. Long legs, tan fur, swooping necks, and arching humps on their backs. Most were chained together and hauling a flatbed rig made out of old tires and steel. All the animals where covered in bright multicolored fabric ropes; a rainbow procession across the white sand.

Two riders broke from the column and met the buggy as it approached. The local humanoid population, known as the Pushkar, had dark gray skin and crazy green eyes. Clarence felt he must look as odd to them as they did to him. The near hairless species took to dressing in white flowing robes and headdresses to reflect the heat. The approaching riders were no exception.

They raised rifles into the air above their heads making T shapes out of their arms. Mimi brought the buggy to a stop and Casper leaned out the side.

"Hey! Oh! Macy! How are ya?"

The riders waved back, halted their camels in front of the buggy, and dismounted.

"Do I keep my promises or what?" asked Casper.

"You certainly do," said a man with a pencil mustache. "I am Macy and this my first daughter Yuyu. She'll be taking the buggy. She is our very best driver."

Macy swelled with paternal pride. Yuyu stood next to the driver's side and waited for Mimi to get out. The three were gestured to ride on the flatbed atop stacked steel cargo crates. Two of Macy's daughters tore across the sands at the wheel of the dune buggy.

"We might regret letting the vehicle go," said Clarence.

"No vehicles aloud where we're going."

"These crates are radioactive," said Mimi.

"Uranium and Helium-3, the two most valuable elements on the planet after water, of course," said Casper as he opened an umbrella and wedged it between two crates for support.

The camel parade walked on, the heat grew in intensity, and by midday they were baking under relentless sun. Casper fell asleep in a pile of white fabric. Clarence's dusty poncho only seemed to make him hotter. He'd taken off his jacket, boots, and helmet.

"Apeman," said a Pushkar riding next to the flatbed, "apeman, want to trade for that helmet?"

Clarence looked at his helmet, resting in his crumpled jacked and stuffed with his shoes. He'd need it in space.

"What are you offering?"

The man held up a fine sheet of white linen and a small inhaler.

"What's in that thing?"

"Instant hydration. One toot and you can walk through the desert for days without breaking a sweat. Cures thirst and hunger. A beast your size could survive a month on it." He spun the little device around in his fingers.

"I don't like the idea of walking across this desert. I doubt I could find my way back if I tried," said Clarence.

"One can only navigate with the stars. The dunes are always moving. No roads signs here," said the rider.

Clarence grabbed his helmet and tossed it. The man handed him the cloth and the inhaler, then put the helmet on his head with a smile. He flipped down the dark visor and smiled even more.

"Fantastic," he said, "here, you apemen don't make good bargains." He threw an old pair of goggles to Clarence.

"Thanks?"

Clarence stretched the leather band and managed to fit them over his high sloping forehead. They protected his sore eyes from the ultraviolet light and gave the endless white a pinkish tint.

"The world through rose colored glasses."

"Yes, yes," laughed the man as he road ahead to show off his new helmet.

Clarence stuck the inhaler in his mouth, pushed the button, and took a puff. He held his breath a moment enjoying a minty taste and exhaled a soft plume of vapor. He immediately felt refreshed. Within minutes he wasn't even sweating any more. He took off his poncho and replaced thick heaviness with delicate soft linen.

"It really works. Want some?"

Mimi turned up her nose. "My species doesn't require fuel the way yours does."

Casper peaked out from his pile of linen. "I'll take a hit."

Clarence passed him the inhaler and the frog sucked on it hard.

"Wow!"

He took another big puff and another until he was a happy hydrated frog.

Four blinding white, mirage inducing, stifling hot hours later they approached the launch pad. The sand dunes where being bulldozed by a half-dozen solar power treaded robots hopped up on sunlight. They continually cleared a large cement slab with a guidance beacon on the far end.

The caravan set up camp and waited. When the beacon went off, Casper gave Clarence the bad news.

"Now we get inside a specially designed crate to stowaway on the ship."

The frog popped a portable breather in his mouth. Mimi held two tanks and offered one to the gorilla. Macy and another Pushkar pried open one of the cargo cubes.

"The box is lined with uranium but the hidden compartment is led. You'll be fine. It locks from within. You'll be impossible to detect."

The three crawled into the small hard space inside the metal box. Clarence pulled the side tight and locked it. The box was silent. Mimi's glowing eyes broke the pitch blackness.

"Locked in a radioactive oven. No wonder you didn't tell me the plan."

"We're safe and it won't be that long," said Casper.

The air ran out quickly and they sucked on portable breathers. The heat was unbelievable. The box shifted and dropped with a thud. Then nothing until they felt the g-force of breaking through the upper atmosphere. The heat vanished with the gravity and was replaced by a cold that put them all to sleep.

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Check the external link for the sequel story!