In
Space Oddity
Episode 01
As he lay on the blue and white sands of the mostly deserted shores of ecuatorial Magrathea, gazing at the beautifully colored but probably-far-too-close-to-be-healthy-to-most-lifeforms Horsehead Nebula and munching on his third piece of fried Magrathean alk-pabreth, it occurred to Gabriel Corbyn, the Andromedan, that it was yet another one of those nifty little cosmic coincidences that the Magratheans had developed fried tofu-like food at around the same time humans had. The Universe, he thought, was a wondrous place, and he smiled softly to himself as his human teeth engaged in the bewildering labor of cutting through and crushing the almost familiar yet entirely foreign texture of that tasty, possibly glutten-free concoction. The sound of the wind and the water surrounding him mingled with the tune of Vangelis' "To the Unknown Man" coming through his headphones, giving him a feeling of transcendental serenity.
In short, Gabriel was having the best of times, and was too lost in it all to notice when a rift in space quietly opened several feet behind him. It was not until a smiling man, with red skin and long white tentacle-like protrusions for hair, actually sat down beside him, that he finally regained some awareness.
"Oh, hey, Takol," he greeted with a widening smile of his own, immediately raising his armful of food towards him. "Want some?"
"You do realize that there are Magrathean phytoestrogens in that stuff, right?" Said the former Andromedan, a hairless eyebrow raised over his black eyes. His voice always sounded like he was purring, with a bit of an echo to it. There was something unique about the vocal cords in Takol's species, although Gabriel was not a biologist and his curiosity for the discipline ended where talk of bones and organs began.
"Well, it better have phytoestrogens," said Gabriel, pushing a fourth piece entirely in his mouth and chewing with defiant determination, even as his tongue started to give him mixed signals. The aftertaste was certainly unique. "Otherwise it would mean that the cook lied to me about alk-pabreth being just like Terran soy stuff, and they seemed really nice and honest."
Takol hummed, lips pursed, but finally reached for a piece and gave it a tentative nibble.
"Magrathean food..." He sighed, blowing air through his flat nose. "Always too salty, and it's not even like Terran salt. If you really wanted good non-Terran food, you should go to the Dentrassis."
"Think I could take my family with me?" Asked Gabriel, finishing the last piece and chucking the disposable plate in a little rift in space. "My dad can't afford a vacation and my mom has been dying to do something fancy and exotic all together for years. I bet they'd enjoy eating with the Dentrassis."
"Did you just use a spatial rift... as a litterbin?"
"There's a red giant on the other side of it, so it's more of an incinerator."
"That's incredibly disrespectful to stars... and stupid," said Takol, and both his eyebrows were raised in disapproval. "What if the star's heat made it through the rift and incinerated you?"
"Hey, I've doing it for years... and without a beacon or an anchor," said Gabriel. "So, clearly, it's not that dangerous for me."
Takol did not say anything for a while, but his disapproving look remained... and somehow it burned just like a red giant.
"So... no family vacation?" Gabriel asked, his tone meek, as he sat up, legs crossed.
His mentor and predecessor sighed loudly. "Actually, I did the same with my family... and more than once. So, even if I objected, which I should, I wouldn't... what's the phrase? Have a... leg to stand on?"
Gabriel nodded, grinning, and Takol grinned back with some exasperation. The two gazed back up at the nebula for a bit.
"How long have you been away from Earth, Gabriel?"
"A couple Earth weeks, I think?" he answered, combing a hand through his bourdeaux hair. "I wanted to visit the Nigundals in Gliese and see how their colony was doing... and then, while on the way back, there was trouble with Krikkit... yet again. I spent a whole week helping evacuate cities, protect refugees and negotiate peace... and then, for some reason, a Vogon constructor fleet came fully armed to Magrathea just as I was about to try alk-pabreth for the first time. It turned out to be a big misunderstanding and very few people got really hurt. But it was hard."
"That does sound like an intense adventure," said Takol, nodding to himself. "Don't get very complacent about it, though. I once spent about three Earth years away from home. There was a major war and we did not have nearly enough cosmomancers to make it end quickly. A couple weeks is difficult, but it can get worse, and you need to prepare yourself spiritually for that."
"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," said Gabriel. "So... did you come here just to check up on me or...?"
"There might be something afoot. A large-scale problem, brewing under the surface."
"That's extremely vague, Takol."
"Humor me, Gabriel."
"Okay."
"The point is, I think you should return to Earth and stay there until further notice," said the older man, standing up with some effort. "The others have already returned to their home planets. It's not much of a strategy but, then again, we don't know yet what sort of problem we might be looking at."
"How do you even know there is a problem?"
"We're space wizards," Takol deadpanned.
"True."
"Just... you know... stick to planetary-level heroism for a while. It's healthy. Keeps you grounded."
"I do like rescuing kittens from trees and helping firefighters," said Gabriel without any sarcasm in his voice or expression. He really loved kittens and his father had been a firefighter.
"But don't overuse your anchors."
"Got it," said Gabriel. "Thank you, Takol."
They hugged. Takol had not liked hugs at first, but Gabriel had proven very persuasive.
They parted ways like only cosmomancers could, each jumping through a spatial rift of their own making, the spheres showing almost incomprehensible sights, nonsensical shapes and colors shimmering, swirling and intermingling. In his first journey through space, before he even met Takol, he had seen with his own eyes that there was a space between spaces. Or rather, that there was a plane of existence between the borders of visible reality, a cosmic neutral territory of sorts, where the laws of the Universe only existed in a warped, illogical form. It always reminded Gabriel of the small handful of acid trips he had taken in his more 'party animal' days.
He felt the energy of the beacon in the necklace around his neck, pulling him away from Magrathea and towards a pale blue dot, the forces of the plane moving his body faster than the speed of light without him feeling it. With a motion of his outstreched arms, a flick of his fingers, he created a small tear in the fabric of the plane, and through it he could see home.
As he fell through the rift, the warmth of the Sun on his face and the breeze in his hair, his music player changed tracks, and a remarkably fitting melody took Vangelis' place.
There was not a cloud in the blue midday sky, and Berkeley was under siege. A small contingent of Hounds had come in the morning, targeting several known meta-human activists among the students and faculty in the campus.
They had attacked viciously, aided by several loosely coordinated gangs and militias of fellow meta-human haters. Berkeley was a minor starget in material terms, but a successful massacre of meta-humans and their left-wing supporters in such a high profile institution, with a history of political radicalism, would have great symbolic value. Well worth the expense of manpower and equipment, and the annoyance of dealing with the more disorganized groups.
Even with help from local police, the barricades around the university had not been able to withstand the sheer power of the Hounds, and Berkeley's defenders had now retreated into the buildings. Cries of fear and pain were constantly interrupted by loud banging and crashing, and the ground trembled with the explosions. At least two people had died, and there were countess injured. The more powerful meta-humans kept hope alive, fiercely resisting the onslaught, even joking aloud as they beat down a foe, but things looked grim.
One of the meta-humans fighting in Sproul Plaza was hit, her stomach bleeding profusely as she fell to the ground. A trio of non-meta students rushed to her aid, not caring that they would be surrounded and outpowered. They applied pressure to her wound as she kept telekinetically hurling whatever she could get her mind on at the Hounds and their allies, and tried to drag her back into Sproul Hall. The Hounds were closing in.
One of the non-meta students got shot in the chest, barely missing his heart or any major artery. The Hounds were too close now, and there was nowhere to run or hide. They huddled against each other, grabing and flinging everything they could grab, silently pledging to take as many of them down with them as they could. Maybe they would slow these bastards down long enough for the others to make it.
Then something cosmic happened. It happened not quite at the last second, not quite like in an action movie, but it happened at a helpful enough time and with a lot of flair.
A rift in space, spherical and full of weird stuff, opened in the middle of the plaza.
And from that rift came a young man with bourdeaux hair, dressed in what looked like some sort of tight-fitting black and purple armor, right out of a cheesy sci-fi movie. And he was wearing headphones, the faint but audible melody of "Ziggy Stardust" coming from them.
The student who had been shot in the chest gasped aloud.
"Gabby?" He said with some effort, clutching his wound.
Another student beside him squinted at the newcomer, but then there was a bright spark recognition in his widening eyes. And he smiled with relief.
"Baby!"
"Hey, Jake," Gabriel said, smiling back. And because he was who he was, and even in this context he could not go against instinct, he felt like saying something else. "I really love your new hairstyle."
The Hounds and their allies stared in silence for a moment, frozen in place, weapons held tight but pointed at nothing in particular.
The rift closed with the strangest sound, leaving behind flying sparks of many colors.
The Andromedan looked back, and half-smiled in confusion for the briefest instant. Then his look turned into one of passionate determination mixed with a bit of outrage, and his lips parted to form a not-so-happy grin.
"You are going to leave them alone," he said softly, with genuine feeling. "Right now."
The reaction from the Hounds was immediate: they pointed their weapons at him and tried to shoot.
The operative word being 'tried'.
"Well, I'm sorry in advance," he said with disappointment, and before any of them could press a trigger, there was a veritable constellation of multicolored lights coming from his clenched fists, and the space around them seemed to become distorted.
And then he opened them, moving his arms in an elegant arch and rushing forward.
The entirety of the plaza changed. The ground rose and folded on itself in several nonsensical directions. Objects multiplied as if they had been put through a kaleidoscope and, much like with a kaleidoscope, bright and vibrant colors came to the fore, almost consuming everything. And the Hounds and their allies were trapped in it all, getting pushed with unexpected force into the air, colliding hard with objects on all sides. The Andromedan ran among them, attacking them with his whole body, moving as if he was just dancing to the melody of his eighth favorite Bowie song. The light from his hands, his cosmomancy, enhanced his every strike, cut their weapons to shreds, and created invisible shields that protected him and the students.
To the Hounds, it was like fighting in the most illogical dream, and try as they might they could not land a single hit. Their shots missed their mark every time as their paths became distorted, and they could not even run away and regroup, as the ever-changing environment kept them trapped and disoriented. Many of them became lost in the growing maze of warped space, or found themselves suddenly falling into a rift, and hitting the ground from many feet in the air as they came through the other side. They flew through the air, hit invisible walls, and all the while Gabriel remained mostly unharmed, save for a bloody nose. And he was still smiling.
More students came out of the surrounding buildings, many of them unarmed but nevertheless eager to help. Gabriel protected them from the Hounds' attacks and gave them a spatial advantage. It was a lot to concentrate on at the same time, but with the anchor in his hand he managed.
Soon, all the attackers had been subdued. With a final kick in the head from Gabriel, the last of them fell to the ground, and Gabriel took the reins of his power, guiding the space around him back to its previous state. The ground flattened, the multiplied objects became singular, and colors dimmed. Reality was mostly normal again, and the siege of Berkeley was over.
Gabriel did not waste time celebrating or trying to figure out who the attackers had been. The wounded needed his help, and he immediately went to the one in the worst state.
"Gabby, what the hell..." Said the student with the chest wound. "I've been... swimming with the Space Oddity?"
"Try not to talk, Matt," said Gabriel, holding his swimming teammate carefully. "We're taking you to the hospital, okay? I'm not going to the nationals without you."
"Where were you?" Said Jake, taking a hold of Gabriel's gloved hand. Gabriel almost shuddered with relief as he realized that his almost-boyfriend was unharmed, and squeezed the boy's hand.
"Doing Space Oddity things," he chuckled sheepishly, and gave Jake a peck on the cheek. The sound of ambulances approaching made him smile. Things would be alright soon.
"God, I'm so glad I came back when I did," he said, partially to himself, and gave Jake another kiss.
"These people... the Hounds... they've been attacking everywhere in the country," said Jake. They had met only a couple months before. Nothing too serious yet, but Gabriel definitely liked him, even if he had a tendency to lose himself in some really deep, big thoughts that gave Gabriel a small existential crisis every time. Finding him surrounded by those Hounds, about to be killed, had spurred him to action just as fast as the sight of Matt lying wounded on the ground.
"Yeah, they're meta-human haters, but not like the usual fascist dicks," said another student beside them. "You saw them, their weapons... but it's even worse than that..."
"They just destroyed entire cities with some space laser," said Jake. "They aren't just bigoted thugs. They are actually genocidal."
Gabriel stared, visibly shocked, mouth open. He could not speak.
"Cities?" He repeated, his mind having a hard time coming to terms with the words. He had seen massive destruction before, but it had always been elsewhere. Some space station about to malfunction, a war between alien empires. Never on Earth.
And he had not been here to stop it.
"I..." He tried to speak, but could not find anything to say at first. When he did find the words, he spoke with reclaimed resolution, smiling with confidence. "Well, I'm here right now."
For his moment of self-seriousness, he got rewarded with a peck on the lips from his almost-boyfriend.
The paramedics rushed into the plaza, carrying multiple stretchers. Matt and the meta-human he had gotten hurt defending were the first to get help, then the rest. It looked like the paramedics were knowingly avoiding the wounded attackers, even those whose injuries were life-threatening. He could not allow that, so he quickly got on his feet and confronted them. Words did not get heated, but the implications in the words that did get spoken were plain to see. The paramedics had made a moral judgement, and had deemed the Hounds and their allies undeserving of help, better off dead than alive to hurt innocents another day. Gabriel, never one to passively accept cynicism, was relentless.
"Either you tend to them and take them to the hospital, or I'm gonna do it myself and then publicly call you out for it," he said, not sounding nearly as imposing as his swimmer's build might have made him look. "Please? It's the right thing to do. Whatever they did, we can't leave them like that."
The paramedics were a tad bit exasperated, but not enough to argue further with someone in such a colorful costume and such a positive earnestness in his manners. One of them succumbed to the temptation and shared a kind smile with the somewhat known Space Oddity. The others just gave up, glad that the Space Oddity was at least polite about the whole thing and even helped them get the wounded on the gurneys.
