At the Spaceport Bar: the Mare Inebrium

We get all kinds at the Mare Inebrium. Being located in a spaceport town, in a high-tech area permitted by a native treaty means that we get a good selection of off-planet visitors. Me? I work in one of the corporate buildings in the inner city. The Mare is convenient to the spaceport so lots of folks like me come here to wait for the ferry out to their flight. You can expect to see anything in the Mare Inebrium.

The D'rrish in the corner snickered through his translator.

"I think that you're a bloody imbecile!" the large alien said. He took another sip off of the three gallon tank of mildly radioactive sludge that served his species as a cocktail. The "straw" held to his mouth by one of his secondary mandibles was actually part of the container. It has a pretty complex valve system at it's tip so that it won't come open for anybody but a D'rrish.

His translator snickered again. "I've met time travelers, three... no four of them now. Here on this planet, actually."

"Where?" interrupted the blue-haired man.

"In the Interior, sir. I am a native of this planet and a diplomat for my people. You may believe what I say."

"Native?" said the blue-haired man, "I've met some of the natives around here, humanoid mostly, I'd say."

"I am a sixty seventh generation colonist, sir." The translator was good. It was able to convey the dignity of the giant alien's speech as well as the silky insult that it made of every "sir" spoken to the blue-haired man. It must be a Fender. "My family has been on this planet for over six thousand years, I should think that fact alone enough to qualify me for native status... sir!"

I had been watching the nervous type since late afternoon when he came in. He seemed to be ill at ease from the start. At first I thought that he might just be AWOL from work or possibly having a domestic difficulty. Then when the blue-haired man from Qundis-click-nal came in and started the time travel argument with the Shree Kasfar traveling sales... thing, the nervous fellow looked as if he were having a seizure. I've been a people watcher for a long time. I like to think that it makes me a better salesman. This guy that I'd been thinking of as Nervous Rex knew something about time travel, something that he didn't want anyone else to know about. So while the blue-haired Qundis-click-nal was arguing time travel with the Shree Kasfar, I was busy watching Nervous Rex. After the Qundis-click-nal uttered his killing argument about paradoxes Nervous Rex seemed to relax. Then the D'rrish shook him up again with that bombshell about meeting time travelers. I thought that he was about to pass out from shock. He suddenly drained his half-glass of whatever and asked the bartender for a double.

"Where were these time travelers from?" Nervous Rex asked, interrupting the blue-haired man.

"Don't you mean when were they from?" someone joked.

"They weren't even all of the same species, let alone the same time or place." said the D'rrish. "I met four different people at different times who happened to be time travelers. If it happens that often then the difficulties can be overcome. It is possible to travel in time."

The D'rrish had them all there. Outside of the bartender, no one but myself was present on other occasions when time travelers had visited the Mare Inebrium. No one else knew anything about time travel, it was all theory to them. Except the D'rrish, and Nervous Rex too, I'd bet. That is, if the D'rrish weren't just making it all up. I've heard some tall tales in this bar, and not just from guys who have strange shapes either.

Speaking of strange shapes, the D'rrish was turning from the bar to face the rest of the patrons. His brownish-gray chitin was well polished and his only garment was a sash of some light blue material worn from shoulder to the opposite hip. I knew that the color and pattern of the sash was supposed to indicate his family, but I didn't know how to read it. I could tell from the badges and decorations on the sash that the D'rrish was a full Ambassador as well as a highly decorated soldier in semi-retirement. Still, it was not a sight for the squeamish as he turned to bring us face-to-face with his six foot high, fifteen foot wide, thirty foot long frame. He was by far the biggest scorpion that I have ever seen. The Ambassador addressed us all, his translator raising it's volume automatically without even the slightest bit of distortion as it cranked up to PA level. It was definitely good equipment.

"The first time traveler was long ago in our own city of Er'da'gasg'dein, far, far to the west. From all reports he was a tall thin humanoid. His travel apparatus was enshrined in his memory for many centuries."

"What do you mean? Enshrined in his memory? What happened? Did you eat him?" interrupted the blue-haired Qundis-click-nal.

"No, he had died upon his arrival in our city." said the giant scorpion-like alien. "He succumbed to our natural environment. He died of radiation poisoning. You see, we D'rrish all live in that one city. It is constructed to be as much like our home planet as possible. High temperature, radiation, that sort of thing. Well naturally, when he appeared out of thin air with no protective clothing, he died almost instantly. We gave him a hero's funeral, as befits a foe who could get through our cities defensive screens and actually enter the city. Such a thing has never happened before or since. The Scientists were set to the task of examining the apparatus that was left with his body. They eventually found it to be the remote control for a powerful transportation system. Before the unit stopped working the scientists determined that the device could move objects in time as well as space. Alas, the machinery that did the moving was not with us, we had found only a control board, not an entire time machine. Instruments were built to detect and study the various radiations that accompanied the operation of the device. We learned to build duplicates of the controller, studied it's operation, and still were baffled. Then the devices stopped working. First the Traveler's equipment, then that which we had built. It was as if someone had finally detected our work and had cut us off from the system. There was much disappointment. As I said, we built a shrine to honor him and placed the machinery within it. Some five hundred years later it was stolen by clever thieves. Two of the other time travelers, as it so happens. While I did not meet the first one myself, I have been in the Shrine of the Traveler many, many times."

"Did you meet the others then, or is this just a fiction-for-pleasure?" the Qundis-click-nal jeered.

"You dare!" boomed the scorpion's translator. "My encounter with the time thieves is not mere history!" he said insultingly. "I was the guard on duty when the controller was stolen!"

"What happened?" I said in order to forestall further interruption.

"Two humanoids appeared out of a hole in the air. We were in the Shrine itself. I was the only guard, an Honor Guard, actually. I had, therefore, only antique ceremonial weapons. The thieves were well equipped, and they were expecting the hazardous environment. They were wearing force field projectors that protected their bodies. I could see the yellow glow of the field surrounding them. They weren't expecting me though! I gave them fair warning, raising my stinger, clashing my pincers, that sort of thing. I clicked out a threat that would have made their blood run cold, if only they'd known what I'd said. Then I stood in defense of the Shrine and we fought. We were all valiant, I suppose, in our own way. We dodged and thrust, parried and feinted, attacked and counterattacked in a blinding rush. They came at me head on, then split ranks and cane at me from both sides. The corner of the Shrine that I had backed into served to prevent them from getting behind me. We clashed, sword to claw, back to the wall, for what seemed to be hours. No help came for me for it was the middle of the night and they continually kept me from reaching the alarm. Finally one of them, a male I think, pulled an energy weapon and while I dodged his rapid fire the other, which appeared to be a female, ransacked the Shrine. I would have been greatly dishonored if the male had not caused the roof to cave in upon me. I was entombed for several days while my people cleared the rubble and presumed me dead. After I was found, I spent almost three days in a hospital, which is a long time for my species. Upon release from the hospital I was acquitted in a court martial and awarded a medal for valor. So you see, time travel is not impossible."

"But what makes you so sure that these were travelers in time?" asked a Ckeskathorq dressed in an orange pressure suit. He sat with a lisping Narshkapoktuard at a table quite near the D'rrish. Their drinks fumed and spat in front of them, untouched while the old scorpion had spun his story.

"Our scientists had five hundred years in which to study the controller and the other artifacts. Do not imagine that they left much unknown. They were able to detect the same kind of energy that only the machine could generate. These traces could only exist in regions where time has been displaced or disturbed. So say our best physicists."

"What of the other time traveler?" asked Nervous Rex in the lengthening silence while the D'rrish looked intently at a device strapped to one of his medial limbs like a wristwatch on a humans arm.

"Oh, but there are two travelers left unaccounted for." said the D'rrish mysteriously.

"Yes?" I said, almost sure of at least part of the outcome. " Who are these two time travelers?"

"One was someone that I met while fighting in the north Urthishfel mountains. We became fast friends and saved each others lives more than once. But those are other tales for other times. He is a humanoid much like yourselves." said the giant scorpion, it's crystalline blue eyes twinkling with affection.

"And the last one?" persisted Nervous Rex in a shaky voice.

"According to this detector," said the scorpion, indicating the device he had been consulting earlier, "the most recent time traveler that I have met is... you! Who are you and where are you from?"

"Call me Ishmael." said Nervous Rex. Then he faded from sight accompanied by an odd wheezing and groaning noise.

I dropped my glass. Max the bartender stood us all a round on the house.

THE END

© 1996 - 2007 By Dan L. Hollifield

Bio: Dan Hollifield, Aphelion's Senior Editor and Publisher, was born in 1957 at almost the same moment that Sputnik II was launched. This seems to have warped his point of view in the fact that he has always been rather a nut on the subject of spaceflight. A life-long SF and F reader, he began scribbling stories for his own amusement and for schoolwork back in the 1960s. His oldest surviving work, carefully preserved by his Mother, is a two-act play about four children finding hidden treasure in a haunted house. He began composing his first attempt at a SF novel in 1987. This manuscript led directly to his "World of Bethdish" short stories and novellas, his "Collector's Museum" series of stories, and the "Mare Inebrium" shared universe series. After having been drug online, kicking and screaming, in 1995 by noted Filksinger and Web-Guru Robert Wynne, he joined Dragon's Lair Webzine as a frequent contributor and later as Assistant Editor. His first e-published story was a Horror short in Dragon's Lair. His fiction has been published in Dragon's Lair Webzine, Titan Webzine, Steel Caves, The Writer's Club, and Aphelion Webzine. He lives with his wife in a tiny brick house near his parent's farm in the howling wilderness that is rural Madison County, Northeast of Athens, Ga. USA. He is an avid collector of firearms, swords, knives, books, and music- both vinyl records and CDs. An amateur musician, he also composes music, lyrics, and Filk as well as having been an artist all his life. One of his oil paintings, done on commission for a local fan, is soon to be featured in a book on Elvis Presley Fan-Art that will be published in England.

Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum

Return to Aphelion's main page.

Return to The Mare Inebrium Story Archive

Or visit Dan's Bio, Story List, and Music Samples page.