The Old West Planet

Space Traveler Fargone • Episode 27

New to Space Traveler Fargone? Start at the beginning

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Another sector, another planet. This time the planet was orange and rust-colored. Probably desert. Only one way to find out. We dropped into low orbit and looked for signs of life.

“I miss Leonard and Harold,” Em said.

“They were growing on me, too. But it wasn’t practical for them to travel with us. Especially at their age,” I said.

“Look, there’s a town,” Em said excitedly.

“Prepare for landing.”

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I landed Rustbucket near the town. I turned to look at Flow, and her metallum skin was nearly the same color as mine. It was still smooth, without any pores, but it could easily pass for human skin.

“Whoa! How did you do that?”

“I knew I could simulate the colors of various metals by tinting my metallum. So I wondered if I could approximate the color of human skin. How did I do?”

“Amazing. I think it would even fool humans unless they looked really close.”

“Hot Mama,” Em said.

“Another Earth slang?” Flow asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “Let’s go.”

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We stood in a desert that looked surprisingly similar to Utah back on Earth.

“I wonder if this is Stonium,” Em said.

“I hope not. That rolling stone disease is wicked. I have no desire to get crushed.”

Flow bent over and stuck her hand into the sand. “It is not Stonium. The soil content is different than the Stonium sector on Manifold.”

“Good. Let’s go to town,” I replied.

As we were walking, a tall, attractive man rode up to us on a horse. He was dressed just like a cowboy in the movies.

“Howdy, strangers. You new to these parts?”

“Yup. We are just passing through.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be out here. It’s dangerous. Follow me to town. You can get rooms and some grub at Pearl’s saloon. I’m Hanley, by the way.”

“More like Manly, I’d say,” Em whispered to Flow.

“Thank you, kindly,” I said and then introduced everyone.

“You’re really getting into this cowboy stuff, aren’t you?” Em whispered to me as we followed Hanley.

“You know it, pardner,” I replied.

Em shook her head.

“Where you folks headed?” Hanley asked.

Em looked at me questioningly.

“West,” I replied.

“La Hermosa Ciudad?” Hanley replied.

“Yup.”

“Too crowded for my liking. You can get train tickets at the station.”

“That was our plan.”

“What’s the name of your town?” Em asked.

“Split River. On account of the river that splits the town in two. It’s more of a creek, really. And dry most of the time. But Dried Up Creek Town ain’t too pleasing, is it?” Hanley said, then laughed.

We walked in silence for a minute, then Hanley looked up. “Sometimes, I look up and notice how blue the sky is. I like that. Blue’s a good color for sky.”

“I agree,” I replied. “What do you do for a living, Hanley?”

“I’m the sheriff of Split River. A lawman.”

“I reckon we’re safe from outlaws, then,” I said and smiled.

“We don’t get many of those. No one wants to turn into a walker.”

“What are walkers?” Flow asked.

“You really ain’t from around here, are ya?”

“Nope,” I replied.

“The walkers are poor souls who are dead but still walking. Most folks say they are cursed for their sins. Destined to wander between living and dead. Until someone puts them out of their misery with a bullet through the head.”

Em and I looked at each other, and both said, “Zombies.”

“What are Zombies?” Flow asked.

“They are undead people in the movies back home. They aren’t real, though.”

“What are movies?” Hanley asked.

“They are stories you can watch,” I replied.

“Like a play?”

“Yeah.”

“I seen a play in San Haroldo once. I wasn’t too impressed. Anyway, walkers are real enough here. Patrolling and putting walkers out of their misery is mostly what I do all day.”

Em looked at me and said, “Let’s go back to Rustbucket and leave. I don’t want to get eaten by a walker.”

Hanley laughed. “Walkers don’t eat folks. They eat chickens. Ranches ‘round here lost hundreds of chickens last year. I don’t like chickens, myself. Never have. I can’t give you a good reason why. I don’t object to eating them, though. Peculiar, ain’t it?”

“So folks in these parts have chicken ranches?”

“‘Course. What else would they raise?”

I chuckled at the thought of it.

“They ain’t cowboys. They’re chickenboys,” I whispered to Em. “I think we are safe to stay for a while.”