Rocketbilly - serial space opera - Episode 2: Surf Scene On Ophilia 27

A Serial Saga Of Those Maverick Spacers Known As Rocketbillies And Their Moonshine-Powered Rockets

What "Rocketbilly" is about: This space opera is inspired by a dream I had where I was blasting into space on a moonshine powered rocket. Going planet to planet, living free - - as a moonshine powered Rocketbilly. Cause when you're a Rocketbilly, whether you're drinking up or blasting off, you're always powered by that same ole moonshine.
As traders, explorers, and prospectors, the Rocketbilly exists within a highly decentralize star-spanning economy where the primary consumable - moonshine - can be produced almost anywhere that you can grow fruit or sugarcane to ferment. Where there is life, there is moonshine, as the Rocketbillies say.
I am proud to debut this serial space opera, as it is written, here on our own decentralized frontier - that "space" we call Steemit! I hope you enjoy and I welcome any requests, suggestions or feedback. Steemit rocks!!

Bill

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Last Week On Rocketbilly:

Jake Argo's spaceship ran out of fuel and he made a forced landing on a primitive planet. Steering onto a volcanic island near the beach, he hoped to do some surfing and distill enough moonshine to refuel his ship...

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Rocketbilly - Episode 2

When morning came I expected to see some natives. I couldnt be sure the island was inhabited but on such a lush world in this part of the Formax Cluster, it seemed like a good bet. I felt like I was being watched. I made a fire and heated some coffee and powdered eggs. Mostly for the theatre of it, cause it would have been easier to just use the ship's galley. I thought it might attract the natives. Fires have a way of doing that.

Not this time. I shrugged, put out the fire and downed the last of the coffee. I'd made extra, expecting company. Now I was cranked on caffeine. I couldn't start making moonshine until I knew what kind of locals I would be dealing with. So I went for a surf.

I grabbed my best longboard, locked the ship and turned on its defense screens. I thought about taking my Halzaka machine pistol. It was fully waterproof and wouldn't come loose from its thigh holster, even in a ferocious wipeout. But it was cumbersome to surf with so I left it behind. I had a com/ship remote on my wrist so if I had to engage anyone with firepower, I could use the ship's guns. And I had the survival knife on my calf that I pretty much never took off.

The water was a warm, sun-splashed blue and extremely clear. Abundant bright fish darted about. Small fun waves peeled across the bay in nice orderly lines. I forgot all my troubles as I surfed wave after wave. Cross-stepping, hanging 5 and 10, and doing goofy poses on the board's nose, I revelled in the sensations of speed. What a rush as the water curved up around me, blasting me across its sparkling surface!

It must have been half an hour before I noticed the spectators assembled on the beach. They appeared to be typical proto-humans. Like Earthlings in general size and appearance, of indeterminate mixed race, they were the most common form of humanity found scattered across the galaxy. The descendants of spacefaring people who had migrated in ancient times using technologies now long lost to them.

But they had never forgotten how to surf! For soon paddling out to join me were over a dozen maidens of athletic build with olive skin and dark hair. I was startled by two who appeared identical, twins apparently. Their green eyes were so vivid they seemed to glow, almost as if painted with radium.

I greeted them but it soon became clear that none of the maidens understood my words, nor I theirs. One who I believed to be royalty (based on her finer and more elaborately made swimsuit) took up a position near me. As a courtesy, I let her have several excellent waves. The others deferred to her and none dared attempt to catch a wave which she was already on.

I was living a Rocketbilly dream. Forced planetfall had turned into a fantasy of turquoise water and exotic surf babes. I caught an outside wave and found myself deep in the tube as the water folded over me and spit me back out. I hooted in glee and did a backflip off my board.

This amused a pretty girl with interestingly braided hair and she paddled nearby. She gestured to the sky with a downward motion, asking with her hands if I travelled down from the stars. I nodded and that pleased her too. She paddled closer. A delicate necklace of small rough crystals encircled her shoulders. She splashed water at me, smiling coyly. Then she looked startled and drew her feet up.

The water sunk down and welled up next to her as if a submarine were cruising just beneath the surface. Suddenly the water exploded and a huge reptile-like sea beast partially emerged, tearing her off her board and biting her in half in the process, leaving only her lower half behind. It swam away, a red path of blood and entrails swirling behind it. The abrupt switch from sexual attraction to utter visceral horror put me in a primal state of shock.

The beast turned and circled us in a narrowing arc. We all looked at each other as if exchanging information with a glance. Like a telepathic flash between us, the situation was clear. It's every surfer for themselves and you either get to shore or you get eaten. We paddled furiously.

How I wished I had worn the Halzaka on my thigh despite its bulk! Taking a shot with the ship's guns by remote wrist control under these conditions seemed impossible. The survival knife strapped to my calf might do something, but I was powerless to defend the others. They had already scattered and spread out, paddling with manic energy. Cool logic told me that reaching the beach was my only real option. I could only save myself.

Two maidens were pulled under and never seen again. I neared the beach and, sensing that the water was shallow enough to make better speed running, I jumped off and grabbed up my board. Just ahead of me the royal maiden stumbled and fell. I reached to help her up but she recoiled. A shadow darkened us both and I turned to see the beast, risen up on huge hind legs and swiping at me with an enormous octopus-like tendril.

I blocked with my board but the force shattered it and knocked me down to a hard impact face first against the seabed. I came up gasping. Yet strangely, I felt more angry than anything else. I was perhaps 500 trillion miles from the nearest surf shop and my favorite longboard was now beyond repair.

The beast roared, then turned its attention to the beach and the sound of horns. Multiple natives in warrior garb blew spiral shells while another, more grandly dressed, held a large complex bow. He notched and drew back something like a cross between an arrow and a spear and began yelling in commanding tones. The. royal maiden staggered beside me and screamed as the beast lunged toward us. I'd had enough and something snapped.

In one motion I drew the survival knife and lurched it forward and upward, slashing into the beast's belly and burying it to the hilt. I grabbed the handle with my other hand too and ripped upward with all my strength.

I give full credit to the bladesmiths of Schyld Glen, for to my surprise the knife sliced cleanly through multiple organs and bones. I continued slashing until I was drenched in the beast's blood and gore. It bellowed like a rhinoceros and collapsed. Still I hacked at it, intending to sever its head. Hands pulled me away but I had little strength left to resist. The blow to my head on the seabed had been harder than I realized and I felt woozy, delirious. Yet triumphant.

I was carried on the shoulders of warriors out of the sea. Held high like a crowd surfer at a rock concert. There was jubilant chanting. The royal maiden brought me juice to drink from a wooden cup.

The imposing warrior with the complex bow yelled angrily and everyone's mood suddenly changed. My knife and wristcom were taken from me and disappeared into the crowd. My hands were bound and I was dragged away by my feet as I passed out from injury and exhaustion...

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NEW EPISODES EVERY THURSDAY NIGHT

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