The Entombed - a Guzzi SF adventure (G3)

drwom (69)in #story • 6 years ago (edited)

"You never mentioned anything about the entombed," Guzzi fumed. "Shindung! Why doesn't anyone ever hear me? I'm not going back. Ever."

Jazz laughed. A lot. "I never mentioned anything about anything, shit for brains. And yet, here you are."

Guzzi could pout like a champion and he gave a gold medal performance. "I'm just saying, that shit is dangerous. Why doesn't anyone ever listen?"

"Because the entombed promise the secrets of the universe, small one," said Schmeep Gar. "And your whining is wearisome."

"All right!" Jazz laughed again. "Garbaby, I think you're getting it!"

The Gar made a sound of grinding metal, and the two held their arms out and wiggled their fists at each other from across the room.

Guzzi's awesome ice dagger stare was lost forever to the universe because no-one was looking. "Getting what?" he growled.

"Jokes. I'm teaching the last Gar about humour. Ha!" Jazz snorted. Shindung, that's funny." She laughed again. "And I reckon you'll make the perfect muse for it."

As soon as he had boarded the Garship, the door had sealed, they had gunned the engines and the ship had left all the good times of Asteroid 4x Beta 12 in the Sillux system well behind. Now they were jumping to only the gods knew where. And if Guzzi knew the gods, wherever that was, it would be somewhere he didn't want to be.

He sighed. Looked around. They sat in what seemed to be a crew common area, which had been adapted for humans. And the bar seemed particularly well stocked. Maybe this isn't so bad... The tall dark and surly routine wasn't working for him anyway, so he decided he may as well try a different tack. "So how did you find me?"

Jazz poured a shot and slid it to him along the frictionless table. "Honestly? I have no idea. This ship is amazing. Wait till you get to know it." She knocked back her shot and poured another. Then slid him the bottle.

Downing the shot his eyes widened involuntarily. He looked at the bottle. "Holy shindung. This shit's from earth!"

Jazz grinned. "Told ya. Ship's amazing. And our friend Schmeep here has a taste for the finer human things. Like booze. And loud music. Some twentieth century band called AC/DC. Hell, this dunging freak is teaching itself to play the drums. For real." Jazz's laughter was infectious. "Seriously Guzzi, you're gonna love it here."

Loosening up despite himself, and seeing no other immediate options that didn't involve him getting dead, he raised his shotglass. "Let's get drunk."

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I'm having more fun than I've had... Wo... ever.

Guzzi shook his head. "Okay. Okay. I get it. I get why me. You wanna piece of the entombed, and I'm the only known living creature to have any relevant experience. I get it. I get. It... Only. Why now, not three years ago? Why nowww?"

The giggle that had shone in Jazz's eye all night? whatever... slowly dimmed.

"Because I believe the Gar still live," the translator spoke in a weird duet with the scaling metal noise emanating from somewhere in Schmeep's head. The effect was surprisingly un-grating. The creature had drunk two bottles of an Earth drink called Southern Comfort, and was a much more relaxed armoured super-being than at any time Guzzi remembered.

"The entombed talk about them. They are mentioned in their dreams."

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