Nightmare

Nightmare

by

Burt Sage

I awoke with a start. No, there wasn’t a bump in the night or other sharp sound that woke me. In fact, it was eerily quiet. I looked at the clock on my night stand. 3:08 am.

I looked around, trying to determine why I would wake up so suddenly. But all was in order. My cat was purring on my bed beside me, pleased that I was suddenly awake. Through my window a crescent moon shone brightly in a cloudless sky. Except for a trio of dim stars keeping the moon company, the sky was empty.

I closed my eyes and started to lay back down in my bed when I realized that I was no longer in my bedroom. I was in my office. Well, it certainly appeared to be my office. I was seated in my chair and in front of me on my desk was my PC. But the rest of my desk top was bare. No papers, no pictures, no desk lamp, not even my coffee cup. And as I looked around, the room had no windows or doors. Yet I could see perfectly—there was ample illumination coming from somewhere.

The room wasn’t empty, though. Hovering just off to my left was a three foot diameter sphere. It gave off a gentle and pleasant glow.

“Greetings,” I heard in my head. “Yes, you are right. The words you hear are coming from the sphere and we are communicating telepathically. Do not be afraid. You are in no danger from me.”

“Well, at least you know English,” I said, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation.

“And 2,492 other languages and dialects as well,” I heard. “I am called Thirteen. I am one of 3072 Overlords that govern the universe. Our role is to keep peace in the universe.”

“That sounds like a pretty important job,” I said. “Why have you come to see me?”

“It’s a rather long story, so I will try to be brief. Like I said, my role is to keep peace. In my sector of the universe there are over 5 billion stars. 292 of these stars have planets that harbor DNA-based sentient beings. As a rule, these beings are peace-loving. But there is a quirk in DNA biology which occasionally allows minor differences in the genomes of a single species. It’s only a difference in appearance, and conveys no other significant difference in ability. Yet for some reason it causes hostility between the different groups within the species. In your species, human beings, the difference is one of skin color.”

“That doesn’t tell me why you’re here,” I said.

“I’m getting to that,” Thirteen said. “Throughout the history of your species, wars have been waged because of these differences. The Crusades was a war of European whites vs the brown Arabs. World War II was a war against the advocates of a white, blond, blue-eyed Arian race. And, of course, the American Civil War was about certain rights being denied African Americans. These are just a few examples of unattractive human behavior. You even fight over religious differences. You humans fight over minor differences instead of uniting over broad shared values. The reason I am here is that your behavior constitutes a threat to peace in my sector.”

“You’ve been watching us?” I asked, anxiously. “Are the UFOs yours?”

“Yes,” Thirteen said, “The UFOs, as you call them, belong to me. But they are unmanned and are no threat. They are for surveillance only.”

Thirteen continued. “Technologically you humans are on the threshold of being able to bring your warlike nature to the rest of the universe. You are still two or three millennia away from being able to reach the nearest peace- loving DNA species. But there is no doubt that you will someday achieve that capability. That can’t be allowed to happen.”

“I still don’t know why you’re telling me this,” I said. “If you want to prevent humans from reaching the stars, why don’t you just blow us up? Why talk to me, of all persons?”

“I certainly have the capability of blowing you up, as you put it,” Thirteen said. “But the species that designed me and my 3071 identicals put in logic circuits that prevent me from making that decision. While we execute the decision, it’s the individual species themselves that are involved in the decision of annihilation. One species with warlike tendencies can be tolerated in a given sector. But two or more species requires action.”

“This is how it works,” Thirteen continued. “One individual from each species is identified. Since these two species are warlike, the two individuals will fight on a battleground until one individual is dead. The losing individual is sent back home and the star for his planet is caused to go supernova. The star just explodes in the largest known burst of light and energy. Annihilation of the entire star system is complete. No remnant of the species remains to reinfect the universe.”

“The winner is sent back to his home and will arrive totally unaware that the fight was held. If he has any memory of it at all, it will seem like a nightmare.”

“You’re telling me this because….” I asked, fear starting to mount.

“I am telling you this because there is another species in my quadrant with warlike tendencies. One individual from this species and one from yours will fight it out on the battleground. You are the human who will fight.”

“You mean to tell me that the survival of the entire human race depends upon my surviving a fight with a being from another species?” I asked in shocked disbelief.

“Yes,” Thirteen said.

“Why me?” I asked, incredulously.

“You were selected completely at random,” Thirteen said. “Just like the individual from the other species. There has been no consideration of any ability whatsoever.”

“What if I decline?” I asked.

“You can’t,” Thirteen said. “Two hours from now you will appear in the battleground where the fight will be held, just as you appeared here. You have no control over it. You can, of course, decide not to fight, in which case you will die and your race will be destroyed.”

“This is not a contest of strength,” Thirteen continued. “Neither of you will have a weapon of any sort. You will have only your innate abilities and whatever advantage you can gain from the battleground. To prepare you for your fight, there are three videos on your computer for you to view. One describes the battleground. A second describes the culture of your opponent. And a third is a copy of the video your opponent has of your culture. You have two hours to study these videos. I suggest you get busy.”

And with that Thirteen just vanished into thin air.

Beads of sweat had formed on my brow, and I started to shake. “Settle down,” I told myself. “This is not a time for panic. You have a good mind. Use it.”

I decided to view the battleground first. It was a valley completely surrounded by tall mountains. In the middle of the valley was a small lake, maybe an acre or so, surrounded by a sandy beach maybe twenty feet wide. Surrounding the beach was a grassy area maybe a hundred feet wide. The grassy area quickly became a lush forest with small shrubs, briers, vines and tall trees. The forest area gave way to rocky foothills which became the mountains. Once in the valley, there literally was no way out except by the way in.

I next viewed the video of my opponent and his culture. My first reaction was one of revulsion. The best way to describe this species was to call them snake-gators. Their snake-like body was four to six feet in length. No hands and no feet. Nothing along the cylindrical body. The head was that of an alligator. All mouth, with rows and rows of teeth. And an enormous tongue.

Their skin color was either a vibrant green, red, or white with black spots. The female of the species was somewhat smaller with a less vibrant, similarly colored skin. The female was distinguishable from the male by a pouch in which she carried her young.

As it is for my species, water is the main necessity of life. Families, if you will, made their nests in grassy areas near the many lakes. There was no mingling of the various colored snake-gators. They clustered in groups of the same color around the many lakes.

There was always somebody drinking from a lake. It was easy to deduce that this species needed a drink of water every two to three hours.

For food, there were ample numbers of species like rabbits and ducks that also needed access to water. There was little need for the snake-gators to go hunting for food. Their food supply eventually had to drink, and the snake-gators just waited until something came close. With a dose of spit that the snake-gator emitted with its tongue, it immobilized its prey. It would then slither over and devour it, usually in a single bite.

Most unusual about the snake-gator’s planet was that there were no structures whatsoever. No buildings, no roads, no cars, not even an outhouse. There were also no trees or mountains, only grassy plains spotted with lakes of various sizes.

After a while I began to wonder why Thirteen had identified this species as warlike. They had nothing to wage war with. The answer to this question became obvious when the video showed two different-colored snake-gators fighting over a nesting area near a small lake. One of the larger green-skinned snake-gators was fighting a red-skinned snake-gator. Each would spit their venom at the other. When getting ready to spit, the snake-gator would raise its upper lip and coil its tongue. The spit came out as a single tight gooey ball. The more accurate snake-gator usually won the fight, and the winner would drag its victim back to the family nest for a feast.

In other battles, the snake-gators demonstrated their highly aggressive behavior. If one of the combatants appeared wounded or disabled, the other would rush toward it and pursue it for a better shot with his spit. I never saw any evidence of compassion for an injured victim, only vicious pursuit, death, and exhilaration with victory.

From my point of view, it was important to notice that these fights didn’t last long. The number of spits was less than six each time, and the volume of spit decreased after each spit.

As I viewed the video that my opponent had of my species, it became obvious that my opponent would wonder about my arms and legs. He would quickly realize that I used my legs to move about. But what about my arms and hands? My opponent would conclude that they were used to eat. I wondered what other use he would find for my hands. Would he understand that they were used to make things? There were no “things” on his planet. Would he wonder how all the buildings in my world came to be? Or would he assume that they were just ‘there’ as the grassy plains and the lakes were on his planet.

Suddenly Thirteen appeared again. I had only 15 minutes left.

“Both you and your opponent may have one last request,” Thirteen said. “Your opponent requested that he be first to enter the battleground. That request was granted. He is there now. What is your request?”

“I want a form-fitting suit made of Teflon,” I said. “It should cover my entire body including my eyes, be flexible enough to allow all movement, and not inhibit any of my senses.”

“Granted,” Thirteen said.

And so I was suited.

At the appointed time I found myself on the battleground. As expected, my opponent had created a nest for himself on the beach near the lake. He was large and green-skinned. He had concluded that since I needed water to survive, he would simply wait until I came to the lake for water, like he did for food on his planet. He would then assault me with his spit and devour me.

He saw me arrive and turned towards me. But he didn’t move. I made my way into the forest area where I implemented my plan.

Since his culture did not have ‘things’, and probably did not realize that I had the capability of making ‘things’, I would build a trap.

Going into the rocky foothills, I searched for and found some sharp, knife-shaped rocks. I brought them back to a wooded area adjacent to the grassy area. I then wove a large net out of the vines that were hanging freely from the trees. I used another four vines to attach to the four corners of the net. These four vines were then attached to small strong trees that I bent over. I attached a trigger vine to the four corner vines so that when I cut the trigger vine, the bent-over trees would spring back, lifting the net into the air. Finally, I covered the net with leaves. My trap was set.

I then headed to the lake to face my opponent. He immediately saw me and turned to face me. As I moved to one side to get past him and get to the water, he moved in the opposite direction as though trying to get behind me. Getting between me and my trap wouldn’t be good.

So I retreated.

So far he hadn’t tried to spit. “Must be saving his ammunition,” I thought. “I’ve got to get him to spit. How can I do that?”

I assumed the only way would be a frontal approach. So I slowly walked straight toward him. I was about 20 feet from him when he raised his upper lip and spat. As intended, it hit me square in the chest. I was stunned. The impact was much harder than I expected. And the spit was truly noxious. Even through my Teflon suit, I could feel it burn. I doubted I could take much more than one or two more of his spits.

As planned, I stumbled and went down in the sand. He slithered towards me and raised his lip again. I quickly rolled to my right and the spit landed in the sand.

I got up and stumbled backwards towards the trap. He slithered after me as quickly as he could. But I was faster than he was. So I stumbled and went down again, now about 50 feet from the trap.

He raised his lip again, and I rolled left. But he had anticipated that move and again I took a direct hit. It hit a different area of the Teflon, but it still hurt bad.

I got up again and slowly stumbled backwards towards the trap. I let him close the gap. Now I was over the trap. I veered to the right where the trigger vine was and fell down a third time. I just lay there, looking at him. I knew he had at least one more good spit left, and I was willing to take it to get him on the net.

I don’t know if it’s possible for a snake-gator to smirk, but I swear that was the expression on his ‘face’ as he moved onto the net and readied the killing spit. As I saw him raise his lip I rolled over and cut the trigger vine. Up into the air he went, just like a fish caught in a fisherman’s net.

I quickly got up and secured him in the net with additional vines. He squirmed and he squiggled and he squirmed some more. But the net held.

As time passed, his color changed, from the vivid green to a paler, yellowish complexion. After about three hours he didn’t move any more.

I found myself in bed looking at the clock on my nightstand. 3:08 am. My cat was purring on my bed beside me, pleased that I was awake. I had a strange sense of tiredness and a vague memory of some kind of activity. But nothing specific. As I looked out the window, a bright crescent moon shone in the cloudless sky. The brightest star I had ever seen and a trio of dimmer stars kept the moon company.