Zoom into Change Chapter One to explore the start of the ninth adventure in the Arca superhero series! Be warned, though, the start of this one is out of this world!
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Change Chapter One
Space… kind of sucked.
The stars, planets, and moons were gorgeous. Once Andy got going, the color shift was kind of interesting, but nothing happened in the vast expanse at any appreciable speed.
In her Arca form, the one similar to her natural one save for the face, hair, ears, and fingerprints, Zita Garcia alternated doing lunges and squats up and down the huge feathered back of Andy’s massive bird form. She tried to curb her impatience.
Traveling this way had been the only option. It’s comfortable, too, she assured herself. Riding on Andy’s back or in his claws was like watching scenery move through a window with no outside sensations intruding.
So boring.
Some change in the soft, springy feathers beneath her bare feet alerted her that he was turning and she rushed to check their position.
Ganymede glowed beneath them, swirling, marbled brown with white starbursts splattered here and there. The electric colors of two auroras wrapped around it, and crater pockmarks interrupted long grooves and ridges.
Given it was twice the size of Earth’s moon, she hoped Andy’s avian eyes could pick out where they needed to go quickly. Had he been in human form, she would’ve expected him to use a grid pattern to search, but he operated more on instinct in this form.
While she could respect that, she hoped it wouldn’t keep her stuck on his back for much longer. The question slipped out, despite her best intentions. “Are we there yet? Do you see the ship with the stranded astronauts? What about the broken General Aetherics robot thingy?”
The bird didn’t deign to answer, ignoring her question as he’d done all the previous times she’d asked. He did bank though, veering toward darker terrain on the tidally locked moon. His angle changed as he dipped closer to the ground. Here the striations on the ground were deeper and more jagged, appearing sharp enough to cut even though they were still thousands of feet up.
If he’s going lower, this has to be the right place, she thought.
He circled.
She glimpsed a dark shape on the barren surface below, something different from the rest of the surface. A few smaller craters pockmarked the surface near the unusual shape. “Is that the anomaly? The drone broke on its way there, right?”
Andy swooped lower still, slowing.
“Let’s grab the robot, get the ship from orbit, and go home to more interesting things!” Thrilled to be doing something, Zita shifted to a gargoyle, jumped off his back, and spread her wings wide.
She fell like a five-foot-tall granite statue without a parachute.
Carajo.
Zita teleported.
As was her habit, she teleported a few inches above the dimly lit ground rather than on it, so she could appear as if she’d flown and landed. She flared her wings automatically, and then rolled as her claws hit the frozen ground.
Her spread wings made it awkward, and while she kept herself from falling, she skidded on the ice. Flailing her arms, she jumped to avoid colliding with a large rock, sending herself farther and higher than expected.
Warmth unfurled in her mind as party line, the telepathic link Wyn could create between the three of them, connected.
Zita threw out her arms and staggered to a stop, dropping to one knee.
Are you okay? Is she okay? She’s on our link, so she’s alive. Wyn’s mental voice was frantic.
Fine, I’m fine. That was kind of fun, actually. I should’ve realized the whole pinche no-air moon thing would mean I can’t fly. Zita crouched, one arm on the ground and the other half-raised.
Relief followed amusement on party line, and she glanced behind herself. Now in his human form, Andy hovered above the ground. A smile spread across his face. I didn’t think to warn you before we left for here. Sorry, Z. I tried to catch you, but you teleported too fast. Nice superhero landing pose, though. Did Caroline teach you that one?
No hay bronca, mano. What pose? I didn’t want to hit that rock face first. Guess I need to figure out how to move in almost-no gravity without flying. Are you doing okay, Wyn? I know talking to our brains from Earth is rough on you. Zita stood and dusted ice crystals off herself. As a gargoyle, she didn’t feel the subzero cold the way she would’ve as a human, but the only time she’d felt a similar dull, constant ache from it was when she’d been on Earth’s moon.
Wyn sent a wave of affection. Praise the Goddess! I’m fine for now, but perhaps you should start searching before prudence requires termination of our party line to preserve my strength for later? Did you contact the astronauts?
Not yet. We just got here. Zita stretched and scanned around them. The landscape held nothing but rocks in every size, covered in ice. While the view was stunning with nothing to impede the stars in the sky, the surface showcased shades of brown, with long grooves and craters keeping it from being completely flat. They stood at the base of a gigantic crater, one bisected by a wide line.
I saw the ship on the way down. From the outside, it seemed undamaged and functional. They’re not in any imminent danger since I’m not getting the urge to rescue them, so we’ll get the rover and then handle them. Unlike some people, I was paying attention when they gave us details on where to search for the rover, Andy added with a sly grin.
Zita glanced at the device strapped to one of her forearms and stuck her tongue out at him. I remember what I need, like how to use the General Aetherics text device so they know what’s going on before Andy grabs their ship for the trip back. It’s not my fault the science dude giving us info was so boring.
Wyn ignored their teasing. Good. It’s a shame such a historic flight had to end this way.
Nothing happened when Zita flapped her wings while standing still. History or not, it’s got to suck for the General Aetherics astronauts in orbit here. First, the drone they sent down to investigate some anomaly gets stuck on something, and then their ship conks out in space. It’s a miracle nothing else seems to be affected.
The astronauts were told to expect you at their most recent contact. They said that their tests still haven’t found major issues thus far, but the error message means they cannot safely utilize the experimental drive. All other major systems are operating within standard parameters. I suppose it is a minor consolation that they made a journey in months that would normally have been measured in years before it broke. Wyn’s mental voice was softer than usual with the distance.
Andy was ogling the scenery with that dorky grin he reserved for something she would not understand, like physics jokes. He meandered to the side and hovered above a deep hole they could’ve driven a semi down, although it was small compared to the enormous one they stood in.
Zita took another couple of exploratory steps, then switched to jumps, sending herself on giant leaps. A tremor underfoot distracted her enough that when one clawed foot came down on a slick spot, she slipped again but recovered. Andy’s in geek heaven—
Of course I am! Who wouldn’t love flying on a moon? Plus, seeing Zita do the bunny hop is hysterical, especially when she almost lands on her butt. When was the last time we saw her fall like a normal person? he sent. With a last glance back at the hole he’d been studying, he floated after her slowly.
I make it look awesome, and that wasn’t my fault. This place has these tiny earthquakes, Zita said, testing the different types of ground.
It wouldn’t surprise me if there are cryovolcanoes or some tectonic activity, but you make it look hilarious, not cool. It’s a pity you can’t be here to see it, Wyn. Andy was chuckling, even if he didn’t make a sound.
Ignore him. He’s loco, but yeah, it’s a shame you couldn’t come, too. I’m surprised you don’t have a space suit spell yet. Zita replied absently as she determined which types of frozen ground had enough dust and irregularities to provide friction when she landed so she didn’t slide again.
Why would I have a spell that acts as a space suit? I don’t have one for deep-sea diving and that would let me visit Atlantis. If I go to space, I’ll ride Andy’s back. I will have a delightful cup of hot tea and some cookies in your honor, though, Wyn sent back.
Zita leapt over a rock, testing out how much strength she needed in the reduced gravity. Oh, sure, you’re a giver like that. The government asked you for a deep-sea spell back in December. Even if they don’t need it anymore, I thought you’d make one just to see if you could. If you came up with one, I bet they’d love a way to go search for the Atlantean portals.
The government may covet whatever they wish, but that does not require me to bow to their acquisitive ambitions. I try to stay within the natural bounds of the Goddess’s creation. What part of a space suit spell works with that? Wyn’s mental voice was prim.
Amusement accompanied Andy’s contribution. The coolest part?
I don’t know, because you have a spell for everything? I mean, you have one that automatically cleans your cats’ litter boxes as soon as they use it. Not that I’m not happy about that, but just saying. Zita shrugged and rolled her eyes. She adjusted her stride to one that was fun, but wouldn’t send her skidding across the rough, icy surface on her face if she hit another slippery patch.
Andy grinned.
Cats soiling their boxes is natural. My magic speeds up the cleaning bit. Don’t roll your eyes at me. Wyn somehow managed to sniff over their mental connection.
Zita blinked. You saw that?
No, I just know you. Now, you said you saw the anomaly? I can feel a headache starting, Wyn said.
Andy’s mental voice sobered. Yes, I spotted it as a bird. We should see it right on the other side of the hill we’re walking away from. Zita’s, ah, creative landing got us a bit off track.
Zita twisted around to squint at him.
With a grin, he did a half turn and jerked his chin at an exceptionally deep furrow in the battered moon surface behind them.
Another tremor shivered across the ground under her claws.
Guess I got turned around. The stars are different here and there aren’t a lot of landmarks. Zita shrugged and began bounding the direction he’d indicated.
That’s okay, Z. We know taking big-girl steps is distracting for a half-pint like you, Andy teased.
His words weren’t entirely untrue. Zita switched to a more interesting topic. I should hit up the moon and practice under these conditions. I’ll definitely need to work in some sparring in low gravity.
Can’t wait, Andy sent, his tone wry. Nothing bolsters my confidence like being unable to land a punch. Assuming I can find the time. I’ve been working extra hours for Dad so I can afford an engagement ring for Caroline, and I’m still trying to figure out wedding rings that won’t get destroyed when we punch things. The only thing that might work would mean cloth rings and asking Brandi…
Zita winced. Oye, asking the ex to make the wedding rings for your current girl? Even I can see the problems with that.
Wyn’s amusement radiated across their link. Don’t worry, you’ll have the time to figure it out and we’ll help if we can. It’s February. Zita won’t have time for sparring trips to the moon with the hours she’s been working for the tax season, getting ready for the Atlantis conference next week, and that date with Freelance she squeezed in between conference events. Her calendar is why you’re searching Ganymede at midnight our time.
Zita had been trying not to think too hard about the opening in her schedule. Date’s off. I thought the timing had more to do with the threat of the astronauts being stranded in space and us wanting to hide Andy’s actual top speed.
Wyn ignored all but one part of her reply, her tone distracted. Oh? You took my advice and rescheduled it? I admit I would prefer to enjoy a tour of historical sites or an art museum or three over covering for you if something came up.
No. He canceled. Again. Despite what he texted at Christmas. As she moderated her gait, Zita stared at the ground. A thick, uneven layer of ice covered everything, including the rocks that made up most of the barren landscape. A few had almost recognizable shapes, but nothing matched the robot they’d been told to search for.
I’m sorry, Z. I know you’ve been looking forward to jumping off a bridge like a madwoman with him, Andy sent.
Wyn murmured her own apology, but couldn’t resist appending more. Did you have a chance to have that talk with him we told you to have? Perhaps it’s time to consider other romantic options, as he seems to be pursuing interests other than you.
Zita did another hop, flying over the edge of the enormous crater and landing on the other side, nearly colliding with a weird skeletal, curving object, barely visible through a sheet of ice. No, we haven’t. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s focus on finding this missing drone.
Andy took the bait, though she couldn’t tell if it was sympathy or the need for the correct term. Probe or rover, not a drone.
The expensive robot doohickey. Zita took another couple of hops and spotted the anomaly as the ground shivered underfoot again. In front of it, a wide track with treads like those of a tank ran in a large circle, ending at a deep crater the height and width of a subway car.
She squinted. Found tracks that might belong to the robot going into a deep hole in front of a… thingy. It’s got to be our anomaly.
Beside Zita, Andy’s jaw was hanging open.
Ice covered the anomaly, giving it a glistening, surreal sheen. Prior to its collision with the moon, the object must’ve been immense, nearly the size of a city block and made of a dark material spread across the paler moon crater and beyond.
The end that had hit the ground and been driven into it was so crumpled and battered that its original shape was impossible to guess. Now it was an L-shaped mess, with an opening yawning from where it had snapped in half. Blackened metal ribs protruded from the gap. Even destroyed, the angles were too sharp, regular, and precise for nature, though the proportions had thrown her off initially. In the debris field near her, frost encrusted an almost perfect cube.
Zita finally sent, Mano, does that look like what I think it looks like, or am I loca?
Andy closed his mouth and rubbed his chin. The anomaly is a space ship.
What? While keeping abreast of space exploration news is not a regular habit for me, I don’t recall any probes landed there. Galileo was destroyed entering Jupiter’s atmosphere, wasn’t it? Wyn sent.
Andy shook his head. No, it’s an actual ship. Not a human one.
It’s gigantic, like the love child of a cruise ship and an aircraft carrier on steroids, even though it’s got huge-ass holes in it and is missing parts. You can borrow my eyes. Zita braced herself.
The crowded, uncomfortable feeling of someone else in her mind filled her head, the warm connection of party line fading away. She turned and slowly surveyed the behemoth so Wyn could get the entire view. As they lacked cameras, they would have to depend on Wyn’s perfect memory to record the sight.
It was a relief when party line returned, leaving Zita almost alone in her mind again.
Wyn’s tone was contemplative. This would explain General Aetherics’ insistence on the rover’s return, rather than abandoning it on the planet as is done with most autonomous planetary exploration vehicles. I am relieved current space travel limitations will prevent the inevitable pillaging and wars to possess the information that ship undoubtedly contains. If we could verify that the rover had not already sent back data, I might have suggested that we forget its existence and claim we could not retrieve the rover. Given their only other source of information on it is damaged, perhaps we could downplay it as odd rock formations, not a ship?
With a frown, Zita continued studying the ship. Pues, I don’t disagree about the war stuff, but hiding the ship’s existence would be a mistake.
What? Why? Wyn’s surprise accompanied her questions.
Andy flew forward and studied the hole that the rover had likely fallen into.
Zita tried to put a vague feeling into words. She ran a hand back and forth over her smooth stone ponytail. One, I’d rather not lie if we don’t have to. Two… there was that bug in the barn in October. Near Mamá.
I remember, Wyn said. Curiosity threaded her tone.
Andy was silent, but Zita could feel him listening.
She sent, Claro que sí, you do. What if that wasn’t some meta’s creation? We keep running into references to monsters from the sky. On Olympus, Chiron even asked if they’d invaded again yet, but I don’t think he ever got around to explaining himself. If this is the remains of that early visit and letting the knowledge get out means more people will believe in aliens, that’ll make it easier to get people off their pinche culos to defend Earth if there’s a future attack.
Some people don’t believe in the moon landing, Andy sent.
La neta, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I didn’t use to believe in weird shit like aliens, but then I literally turned into a chicken. Impossible’s kind of like Tuesday these days, but sadly without any tacos. And that one bug was near mi madre. That’s not okay. Zita shook her head.
Her friends were silent for a moment. Wyn finally sent, You have a point. Perhaps you could demur from moving it to ensure possession does not set off a war or seven, Andy?
Andy’s reply was measured, as if he were weighing each word before he said it. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could move it back to Earth. It’s so damaged that what’s left would disintegrate along the way. The cold, the ice, and the lack of atmosphere here may be all that are holding it together. I think Zita’s right, though. We shouldn’t lie about this. The only way we could hide its presence from later exploratory missions would be to destroy it, and I refuse to do that to such a scientific treasure trove.
We don’t need additional credibility issues, but… Wyn’s mental voice was unhappy.
He continued. General Aetherics doesn’t need to know everything we find out, and we don’t have the right tools to take samples back, anyway. None of us have the time or training that a scientifically sound excavation would require, so we have valid reasons to refuse to do the work later. Our best course of action is to check it out now and then give an edited version of any information.
Super edited, Zita appended.
Andy paused, and then eagerness and curiosity flavored the next words that poured from him. What kind of propulsion do you think it used for faster-than-light travel? I’d love to know if it’s based on an advanced version of physics we’ve hypothesized about, like a warp drive or wormholes or something entirely new.
I’m okay with Andy’s suggestion, though he left out the part where he’s dying to play explorer and check it out. Zita grinned.
Wyn’s voice held the smile they couldn’t see. That was a given. Very well, we are in agreement then. Take the time for a cursory visual examination to satisfy your scientific curiosity, and then find out if the rover can be salvaged from the crater it fell into. We had discussed delaying your return to hide Andy’s actual top speed once we ascertained the risk to the astronauts’ lives anyway. Between a minor bit of exploration and a leisurely flight home—I do suggest sleeping, Zita, you have both jobs tomorrow—they will at least not have exact numbers.
Almost too quickly, Andy volunteered, We have the time. I flew pretty close to the ship, but didn’t sense any danger to those inside.
Zita bounded closer and stopped to eye a curving hexagonal plate of metal. Eh. It’s late, but sure. Let’s get you your nerd fix, mano, and then hurry back. At least it’s more interesting than sitting on my culo on your back.
You could’ve slept instead of exercising on the way here if you were that concerned about the time. He glanced up at her from the hole in the ground and shook his head, grinning.
But what if she missed something? Wyn’s tone held laughter.
Hating haters, Zita sent with no real venom.
Andy gestured to the largest of the wounds in the wreckage’s side. We can go in here and head toward the more intact section.
You mean the part that’s not all crunched up? Got it, Zita sent, hopping that direction.
Don’t touch anything. If Chiron and the Atlanteans’ accounts are right, the invasion preceded Alexander the Great. The cold and aridity from the lack of atmosphere has preserved it remarkably well, but I expect it’s very brittle. Don’t touch anything, Andy warned her.
Zita squinted at his back. You said not to touch it twice.
It’s hard to tell when you’re listening sometimes. I’m going in. Andy floated under the exposed metal ribs and into the interior of the vehicle.
That’s fair. Zita bounded after him, making a game of landing anywhere other than on the debris scattered around the massive ship. She had to amend her gait to walking once inside, as the section they’d chosen to explore lacked the headroom for her to jump, as she found out the hard way.
Neither her head nor the ceiling took any serious damage.
More importantly, Andy didn’t see the collision. He’d already disappeared into the surviving hallway. His musing and speculation about the science of the alien ship was a constant cheerful babble over party line that she was mostly ignoring.
Other than dimensions that seemed off somehow, the hall was a disappointment. Ice-covered metal walls, ceiling, and floor blended into each other. Two sizes of hexagonal door broke up the monotony: seven-foot-tall doors and identical smaller doors sized to allow something cat-sized in and out. Only a few of the larger doors were open, and those only partially so, just enough for a person to slip through.
Andy hovered by the first open door and gestured to a slender golden stick with fletching protruding from what she guessed was an access panel. Z, do you see this? Is this an arrow? There’s no way this should’ve been able to penetrate so deeply into the wall, especially if it’s gold like it appears.
She squinted at it and then glanced down the corridor. Much farther down, she could make out other entryways in various stages of opening with similar objects protruding beside them. That does look like an arrow from what I can see, but yeah, no way one should be able to do that unless you’ve got some kind of superstrong draw weight or a mechanical bow. I could see a modern arrow sticking in the metal a little, but this is half-buried. I could be wrong, though. My archery is limited to hunting turkey once or twice a year for a friend, and practice, por supuesto.
Party line carried Wyn’s thoughts on the subject. If this is from the time of the ancient metahumans, they could’ve had an archer meta, like Sir Robin on the European team. I read of a combat where he shot a series of arrows into cement that he used as handholds to catch up with the villain in a recent news release.
Zita pictured that and considered the logistics of how she’d tackle a climb like that. Reluctantly, she refocused on their discussion. That Robin guy would need to be in pretty good shape to do that. A meta ability with arrows could account for these sinking in so far, I guess.
I hear he’s both very athletic and single, the way you like them. The British queen is his granny, so he should have many intriguing connections. Wyn seemed more invested in the topic than Zita liked.
Don’t. I’m not done fucking things up with Freelance yet, and he’s at least quasi-local since he’s American. Or maybe Canadian. His voice changer sounds American, anyway, I don’t know. Zita’s answer stung more than she wanted to think about, and she scanned the room for something to distract herself with. Her linguistic ability sent a twinge of pain through her as she found a legible label in a variant of a language she’d seen only once before, on a secret cache of strange technology. Can we concentrate on what we came to this pinche place for? The sign on this door says weapons storage, so there could be some cool stuff in there. Maybe a ray gun that Andy can play with in his dreams.
Wyn, use my eyes to check it out, Andy sent.
Party line went down for a few minutes.
Zita tapped her foot. Her friend would need a moment to mentally record the hall and strange arrow, but the door was right there. She was standing around doing nothing. Clearly not a good use of my time, she thought as she slipped through it. No harm in going first while she’s doing her thing. It might even be a favor to get out of their way.
Her wings meant she had to maneuver carefully to fit, but she made it without hitting anything too hard. After she was through, she assessed her new location.
She stood in a cavernous metal room that had no sharp corners except where the floor met the walls. A half-open door led to the hallway that they had been exploring, and a closed cat-sized door was partway down the wall. On the far side of the room, a circular hole cut through a section of the wall and floor. Curving rock shards, far bigger than her body, radiated out from a pile in the middle of the room. Beneath those, painted and etched patterns in the metal made her suspect that the center of the floor opened downward.
Or upward. For all she knew, she was walking on what was supposed to be the ceiling.
Without stepping on the part that opened—the floor had dropped out from beneath her on previous adventures and she didn’t care to revisit that scenario without being able to fly—she circled around it, toward the hole.
She almost missed the small box on the wall by the cat-door, probably because it was at her knee level. A label read Weapon Neutralization above it in the same alien language, and a cylindrical, fist-sized object was inside.
Crashing the ship neutralized whatever the weapon was just fine, she thought.
Before she could read whatever the fine text was below the object, party line flooded back.
Z? Where’d you go? Andy sent.
I went through the doors. It looks like a hangar, but there’s no ship in here. One must’ve exploded or somebody shot the ship with a laser or something, though, because there’s a big-ass hole that goes right through the ship to the outside. Abandoning the weapon-neutralizer box, she bounded over to the opening created by the damage, though she was careful not to stand too close to the smooth edges in case it crumbled.
She peered through it to see both the room next to her current one and the terrain outside, decorated by another of the deep train car-sized craters like the one the rover had likely fallen into.
Lasers don’t work like that. Andy came in beside her and hovered by the hole. He frowned at it. I can see why you would think so. It does seem melted rather than bent in or out. It might’ve been a chemical explosion from inside?
She shrugged and teleported to the next room. If you say so, mano. I’m going to check out the next hangar.
He gave an exaggerated sigh over party line. Are you certain you don’t want to hear the science behind lasers and how they work? It would brighten everyone’s day.
Positive, she replied while studying the new room.
Wyn groaned. Not after that pun, thank you.
While it was a similar structure to the room Zita had just left, the only debris were piles of odd, angular items along one wall and a large, lumpy metal object on the hangar door section of the floor. None of the rock shards were in evidence. The door to the hallway was half-open, with marks on it as if it had been pried apart at some point.
Zita blinked as her brain registered what the object was. There’s a ship in here, and it’s open! Pues, one side is ripped open, but it’s otherwise intact and only the size of a city bus. Clamps are holding it to the floor, which explains why it didn’t get as tossed around as some of the other stuff here.
Oh, coming! That alone is of incalculable value! Think of what we could learn about space flight from it! The engines on the big ship are probably toast after the crash, but if it’s still workable on the shuttle, it’s invaluable! Andy floated through the hole into the room. He glanced toward the other door and shook his head, and then lost all interest in it as he drifted closer to the smaller spaceship.
Wyn’s musing was so quiet she almost missed it. Maybe a magic space suit isn’t outside of nature. Clothing is required for humanity, and adaptation of tools a natural progression…
Eager not to be left behind, Zita bounded in great leaps to the ship. ¡Órale! Beat you here! It’s….
She had to take a moment to interpret what she saw. When she finally resolved all the bits and pieces into a coherent picture, she stepped back. It’s a massacre.
Want to know what Zita sees and find out what happens after Change Chapter One? Order your copy today!
