From the Jaws of Death, Finale

This story is a continuation of Bradley Ramsey‘s The Unfathomable Beast of Xanadu IV.

If you’ve already read this story, you can keep reading my version of the events that followed his story. But if you’re unfamiliar with the original tale, you should read it first. After all, his story is good.

Go to » Part I « » Part II « » Part III « » Part IV «

I spent so long hiding in the darkest corners of Xanadu IV, but today, I’m finally exploring the surface. A lot of planet is desert, for it’s the closest one to the sun, yet there are regions full of life. I have already visited a few, taking in the local flora and fauna, yet this one is the greenest and most serene.

The singing birds seem to be as carefree as a being can be. A nearby stream creates a thin veil of water mist that is sometimes carried by the breeze towards me. The leaves and branches rustle calmly and gently. The grass under me is soft, and the soil is warm. This is such a delectable day!

There is nothing more to do, no pressing matters, and no responsibilities. So, I relax every tiny part of my being as much as I can, taking in the serenity. Luckily, modern devices allow me to be under direct sunlight, letting me enjoy a whole slew of new experiences. And one day, modern biotechnology will change enough of me so that I no longer require the technology.

I stare at the blue sky, count the fluffy white clouds, and think. Something is missing, yet this brings me joy. Something I felt in that ancient, crumbling temple even as my old worshippers performed their bloody rituals. Something I had even while hiding in the darkest depths of the planet. It wasn’t always there, but after those evil people brought it, it put its long roots extremely deeply. Fear. Fear for my children. Fear for myself. If I were lucky, they would’ve simply killed me. If not, I would’ve ended up in a cage similar to Freddie’s, or even in his own.

I had no weapons against them, no real numbers to have a fighting chance, and the sunrays were handicapping me. But now, the fear is gone. I have freedom and an army of my dear children by my side. Indeed, we yanked ourselves from the jaws of death, and now we are the masters of the galaxy.

I take a deep breath and finally make peaceful plans for the future.

~*~

The Darluca space station has transformed in just a few short months. I walk the garbage-free, spotless streets, and everything is nicely lit. There are no foul smells, no homeless, and no leaking pipes. The sheds I saw here and there last time are gone, replaced by fledgling gardens. Only proper buildings are left standing, and their metal walls bear only beautiful murals of graffiti and nothing ugly.

My children and brethren smile at me as I pass. There’s no longer any mugging, extortion, or murder in this place. There’s no fear, only pride in the work well done and joy of having a good family.

The crowds are also gone. It makes sense to have a space station in this corner of the galaxy, so someone will remain here, keeping a few small shops and repair stores, but the place will become a lot emptier in the upcoming months. No more queues of the unfortunate and the desperate will ever bang on these doors, hoping to earn enough to sustain themselves another day. No more evil is lurking among them, looking for a juicier victim. There will be no more fear.

Could this place have ever been like this under the rule of some alien? Well, sure, not every one of them was like Freddie Montauk. Some other person would’ve kept Darluca cleaner, or safer, or filled with dignified businesses and manufacturing. Yet, could any other alien do all of the above at once and make this place as good as it is now? Should there be an answer? Could I allow someone other than my brethren to run this place? To run the galaxy?

Maybe. In fact, the diversity of opinions the aliens used to have could’ve been beneficial. Is it too late to bring them back? No, it’s not. Should I do it? That is the question for someone smarter, that’s for sure.

~*~

Selduka was the latest planet that brought the wrath of the admirals upon itself. Well, no, the admirals just wanted even more money, so they found a pretext to invade the place.

I walk among the ruins of a huge coal power plant. The black rocks and powder are everywhere among the debris and twisted metal. The machinery is already beginning to rust under the now-open sky. This plant is the last one. Over the past months, my brethren have been dismantling them one by one. Everything useful will be moved. Everything useless will become home for local flora and fauna. And everything toxic will be disposed of chemically or buried in concrete caskets. I can already hear the noise of the large machinery coming here to finish the job. I should let them work in peace…

My eyes wander across the horizon, focusing on a nuclear plant in the distance. This planet will have as many of them and other clean-ish sources of electricity as the diminished population needs. No more exploiting nature for the sake of making money. The pheromones and the way our minds work make it so easy. My children will do exactly as I say, and their children will do exactly as they say. And if evolution takes this gift away from us, then we’ll figure out a new way of not repeating history.

~*~

Near Selduka’s equator is a network of huge cities. It’s impossible to say when one ends and another begins, but the inhabitants used to be extremely proud (and sometimes frustrated) at having a word as their place of residence.

Several kilometers away from these concrete jungles is the local dump. Layers upon layers of garbage line the enormous, deep hole of a former quarry. My head swivels and swivels, and the dump spreads on and on all the way my eyes can see. It seems like I stand in front of an ocean of stinking garbage, and only the knowledge in my head tells me that it doesn’t go on forever. Soon, this dump will see its final days.

But before the dump may close, a few new layers must be added. I turn and watch a queue of garbage trucks come in and out. We didn’t and still don’t have enough population to eat everybody, and we never will. The number of my brethren should be small enough for nature to support us with ease. So, on this planet alone billions of corpses of the former masters of the galaxy have been littering the streets and homes. Having known that, I started the disposal process right away, all over the galaxy.

Trillions and trillions of bodies of all shapes and sizes have to be buried or disposed of differently. It’s relatively easy to do when you are on a planet, but when you are on a rocky moon or a space station or vessel, disposing of them becomes a lot harder. But I must do this job. The galaxy has to become a better, cleaner place. I can’t allow it to be poisoned by the fumes and rot.

The trucks open their big containers, and the thick, red mass flows out. There was no reason to keep the bodies recognizable. After all, transporting rotting red jam with the inclusions of bones and boots uses space a lot more efficiently. As soon as the mass slushes to the ground, the landfill compactors spread it evenly across the dump. The bones and skulls crack under their massive steel wheels. Some drivers used to like this sound a lot, but it got old after a few days.

A force field right above the dump keeps the birds away. This place didn’t have one until I ordered it installed. So, you’re welcome, birds: you had your share of fresh corpses, and now I’m keeping these rotten ones away from your stomachs.

I turn around and walk away from this stinky place. Once they are done, the dump will be covered with soil and left alone. Eventually, it will become nothing more than a sad memory.

What did I want to visit next? Oh, yes, now I remember…

~*~

I walk past the open pens, the empty buildings of aquariums and terrariums, and then across the bridge that spans a wide, fast, roaring river. This zoo is vast and green, unlike the small metal cages Freddie had. Yet, it’s still not freedom, so almost all of the animals have been returned to their habitats. Only those unable to survive in the wilderness are left here, and my children will do their best to prepare them or their next generation for eventual release.

I read colorful information signs near each pen, taking in the knowledge, and already planning my trip to see those beings in the wild. Yet, one information sign in front of a rare populated pen grabs my attention more than the rest.

It would’ve been cruel to put sapient beings in here. After all, I don’t want to mirror what Freddie has done to my children. Yet, some hospitals and hospices all over the galaxy had a small population of people with brain damage or with an underdeveloped brain. Moving such people here offered an opportunity for my children’s children to see what other sapients look like, so I did just that. Sure, these exemplars don’t act quite like sapients, but that is a limitation we’ll have to endure.

The pen is a big, round patch of grass with a small stream, a few big trees, and a cave-like hiding place in the back. I smile at a milvan and a human who came closer to the fence to look at me. They are clad in sturdy clothing modified for their special needs. Their skin and hair are clean and healthy-looking. Their eyes are curious, but something is missing from their gaze. They don’t try to speak, but a few elrisians and calimari sitting near the stream do make weird noises, probably parroting the chickens that roam around. What a great sight to behold! People and animals in the same pen, living in harmony.

I turn and keep on walking. Somewhere in this zoo should be pens with sluggoths and other aliens. And as I walk past the sign, the text puts an even wider smile on my face.

…The fabric covering the bodies is called “clothing” or “clothes.” It is not a part of their bodies. Instead, it is manufactured. In the old days, the aliens would choose the materials and colors they wanted to “wear.” Nowadays, the zoo authorities are in charge of that. While necessary for thermal regulation during some seasons, the clothing will be removed during warmer weather, allowing our visitors to see what different species really look like…

Yes, there will come a time when this sign is necessary. And to support the zoo population, we’ll have to develop genetic drugs that would make the alien offspring lack sapience. This way, the memory of the former masters of the galaxy will live on. Well, in a sense.

Before my eyes flash images of possible future documentaries.

“Humans and other mammals: A history.”

“A day with milvans.”

“The calimari at nighttime.”

A grin forms on my face. It would be such a treat to watch those movies with my kids! Huh… Do I know anyone who can start filming?

The End

Anton Anderson, 2025

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