Lower CoSMOS-A Trip to Zerort 1

            At an opportune time, Ronnie the Human, or Earth man Ronnie, stood from afar the plateau. A Uru vlank, Ronnie dubbed Slim, was near him. The little translucent being folded itself near Ronnie’s shoes, murmuring its language. The young Uru then flapped and waved in the air until he was able to reach close to Ronnie’s height to better converse.

            “One can only hope he is more friendly than the night before,” Ronnie said. The Uru answered in response to Ronnie.

            “I believe you, Slim. Your people trust too easily. Especially him. I would not have bothered if I was aware he was that Milmurt,” Ronnie said.

            The Uru responded.

            “I know it isn’t a common Ranokian name, alright. You got me there. I was nervous,” said Ronnie, “You think we should try this again?”

            The Uru answered.

            “Ok,” Ronnie said and started his trek to the plateau they called ‘sebewenga.’

            Milmurt’s head lay on a rock, one leg crossed over to the other. Ronnie came with the Uru vlank behind him, sliding his way forward.

            “Is life that boring for you, Ronnie?” Milmurt said before Ronnie made it to him.

            “No. We are neighbors, and my visit is one of kindness and peace,” Ronnie said.

            “You did say last time you now know who I am?” Milmurt said.

            “Slim here gave me the run down but not in the detail I had hoped for,” Ronnie said.

            “Oh, and what did you hope for, human man?”

            Ronnie wanted to give up and turn home, maybe he took Milmurt’s first visit the wrong way. His cordial demeanor, as Ronnie remembered, was stifled by Ronnie’s rudeness.

            “Here is a little. I am allowed one-half hour to leave the ‘sebewenga.’ If not, the Uru notify your friends and they return. It is a punishment. That should be enough for your curiosity,” Milmurt said.

            “My friends?” Ronnie said.

            “The Mon,” Milmurt said.

            In time, when Ronnie came to know Milmurt and both stared into the endlessness of space, Milmurt shared his tour on Zerort 1. Milmurt served on the ship’s crew of Ranokians. Like all other places, different advancements in technologies came at different rates. The Ranokians, in their sector of the universe, had no enemies besides internal conflicts between the tribe of Ranokians on Ranok. Space travel was a mere luxury to them, not expecting war or the discovery of another species. To the Ranokians, preparation was key in any regard. Outfitted with the best weapons they manufactured, Zerort 1 was the pride of the Ranokian’s small fleet of luxury commercial vessels, serving their community.

            “You? That’s funny, Milmurt,” Ronnie interrupted Milmurt’s story. He sat next to him while the Uru played on the plateau, forming shapes, and trying to get some of the stars to reflect on his skin.

            “I was good at my job, laugh all you want, human man,” Milmurt said.

            Placed in the entertainment part of the ship, Milmurt mingled with the guests because of his language ability and his charisma. Ranokians were aware of themselves in the universe and no one else.

            “How did you manage to get the ship to breach orbit,” Ronnie said.

            “I was the face of the place, not the engineer,” Milmurt said.

            The captain, though under a different name for this iteration, tested the boundaries of the distance the ship traveled into space away from their planet before the breakup of the ship’s structure began. At the threshold, the crew spotted an anomaly while on the edges of their normal flight pattern and a return home. A displaced Mon remained still, pretending to be a portion of debris floating in the darkness. At first undetected, the Captain believed he had seen something on their recognition screens close to the ship.

            Returning home, the same crew asked for another mission to the same area of the Mon’s detection, this time with their revered sages.

            “Sages?” Ronnie said.

            “One thing I know about this lower cosmos, there is always someone, somewhere with wisemen,” Milmurt said, “It never fails.”

            An argument, not violently opposed to one another, began on the age-old universal question of life in other parts of the universe. Some agreed, some did not. With the sage’s advice heeded, the captain made another voyage but kept the mission low-key. Milmurt’s excitable disposition bored him of the routine of entertaining others and while on an extended break, journeyed into the ship’s internals to find the emergency return crafts. The vessels were used for extraction from the main ship and to return home.

            “You stole it?” Ronnie said.

            “Accidentally, I don’t know what I am doing,” Milmurt said.

            Releasing from the main ship after advisement from the ship’s controls, Milmurt allowed it to unlatch from Zerort 1.

            “Sounds to me like you wanted to leave,” Ronnie said.

            Milmurt didn’t answer.

            The vessel floated away and the propulsion system failed. Milmurt signaled for assistance for hours until the crew became aware of missing an extra emergency craft and the popular Milmurt in the entertainment hall. When the crowd found out it was him missing, panic set in and they begged for them to save Milmurt, though the Captain convinced himself to leave Milmurt as a lesson to never do it again because he wouldn’t be able to after death.

            “Sensible of him,” Ronnie said. Milmurt stopped his story to stare at Ronnie, “What? Go ahead, I am listening. And thank you for allowing me to hear this,” added Ronnie getting out of his callous statement he found personally amusing.

            “I am not the beast they make me to be, Ronnie Human man,” Milmurt said.

            “Talbert, Ronnie Talbert,” Ronnie said.

            Because the mood shifted from luxury liner to a desperate plea to save the crew member who was good and consistent in assuaging the customer’s fears, the captain made arrangements to save Milmurt although the technology of the time made the emergency vessels difficult to detect since they were designed to return home.

            “Why did it not return home?”

            “Again, I am just the face,” Milmurt said.

            In the ship’s haste to retrieve Milmurt, and turning to an opposite direction to retrieve him, it ran into an object that hindered further movement. The immense dome and oval-shaped Mon remained an obstacle, viewing ports into the ship’s leisure rooms gave sight to Mon’s outer shell and what some believed to be its face with wide deep multi-colored eye sockets and a shifting hollow inside. More panic began, the sounds, which the Mon is brilliant and keen to detect in space, placed it in alarm. Blending it into the ship’s side and changing its colors. As the Mon does during an excitable moment, it attached itself in defense.

            “That’s incredible!” Ronnie said. By that time, the Uru vlank, Slim, twirled itself on Ronnie’s feet ignoring the discussion.

            The Mon sucked up twenty percent of the ship, Milmurt watching the exchange from a distance. With the Zerort 1 headed in the direction of Milmurt’s small vessel, the Mon went with it. In the fright of the encounter, the Mon usurped the remaining vessels stretching all structures, spanning space with its malleable body in a brief time. Distance meant nothing to it if it grew and stretched beyond the limits of its capability. The ships were gone from Ranok.

            “Where’s your ship?”

            Milmurt stood up, walked to the edge of the plateau, and pointed. Ronnie stood and Slim followed behind. Off in the distance sat the ship.

            “Is that what that is?” Ronnie pretended not to know.

            “Do not do that, Ronnie Talbert, Human man. It is missing components,” said Milmurt, “Isn’t that stealing from where you come from?”

            “How was I to know it was yours and how long has it been since you left it there,” Ronnie said.

            “I don’t know or care,” Milmurt said.

            “I put them back. Whatever was broken, I put back,” Ronnie said.

            The two made the journey to the ship, embedded in the grayish-brown dirt of Urus. Ronnie, with the help of the Urus, dug underneath some of the sides of the ship to make a better entry point. Ronnie was inside while Milmurt stayed outside. Ronnie powered the ship up and stepped back to Milmurt. Surprised, Milmurt rounded the vessel, Slim with him.

            “Well, thank you, Ronnie Talbert,” Milmurt said.

            “Just Ronnie,” said Ronnie and walked to Milmurt’s side, “I know it is not much as I do not believe it is designed to travel independently.

            “How do you know this? You are not like the other humans,” Milmurt said.

            “I know. Over there I am cursed. You’ll never hear me saying I want to go back,” Ronnie said.

            “You would enjoy Ranok,” Milmurt said. Ronnie stared at his new acquaintance.

            “I can get you back,” Ronnie said, Milmurt grinned.

            “How?” Milmurt said.

            “The Mon. It’s how I am here,” Ronnie said.

            Milmurt turned around and began his way back to the sebewenga plateau. Slim grew to match Ronnie’s height again and spoke.

            “I remember. So, that is how he got his name?” said Ronnie to respond. He stopped and raised his hand to his face, mouth open and fingers sliding down the side of it, watching as Milmurt took the trek home alone. Ronnie, after his awe, kept his distance for now.

            “Where is the Mon they hit with their ship?”

            The Uru lay flat on the ground motionless.

            “Oh no,” said Ronnie, “That is bad, my friend. Very bad.”