Eugene Walker was a semi-truck driver that spent most of his time on the open road, addicted to various stimulants. He had no family of which to speak, no friends to help him parlay his savings into an unwise investment of cheap beer and pretzels, and owned a lone single wide trailer with nothing but a few basic comforts. If he had a choice he would live in his truck all year round, but he wasn't an owner operator. The pink slip on his rig was stamped by Gorski Meats, the largest distributor of fine meats below the Mason-Dixon line. It was fully refrigerated and required constant upkeep. Besides, it was company policy that all drivers were required to keep a permanent residence -- whether Eugene thought he needed it or not.
For a great many years Eugene's life had no purpose, and he surmised that driving over an embankment and down the steep slopes of the Appalachian Mountains would be one of many ways he could end his life. It might get him a blurb in the local obituary, but with not so much as an emergency contact it would be a few short sentences. More care and concern would be shown to the grocery chains that would not receive their shipments of brisket, prime rib and T-bone. Surely, they would receive a discount on the follow up delivery on account of Eugene's misfortune. This was just one of many ways that he could go by his own choice.
It was with one significant stroke of cosmic intervention those obscene notions of suicide were brushed away. Where once his purpose in the world was nearly non-existent, he was now given a universal reason to live.
The event occurred during one clear, start-lit evening while sitting outside his trailer in a beaten-up, broken-down lawn chair that had been reclaimed from his neighbor's garbage. It went almost exactly as they say it does on those TV programs about close encounters with another kind that Eugene watched late at night on The Discovery Channel. First, there was a series of colorful lights off in the distance, then a large spacecraft in the shape of a saucer hovered down, and finally a bright light nearly blinded him. In the blink of an eye he was watching the world he knew fade away into the distance. Thankfully, Eugene thought, there was no probing of any sort.
For a brief moment he considered this was death, and his consciousness was now intertwined with a millennium of stardust. It was both surreal and quite full of uncertainty. Thankfully the aliens laid his doubts to rest without delay.
Shortly after his arrival on the spacecraft he was provided instructions by the Fish Guild, an affectionate name he eventually gave them not knowing their true ethnic identity but being made fully aware of their appearance. They had thin heads shaped like fish, a central dorsal fin that ran up from their forehead and down their back presumably, but the eyes were in front, and they had gills on the bottom half of their neck. He couldn't tell if they were bipedal though because all holographic communication was taped from above the shoulders. Everything was recorded and sent one way, but he could also reply back with his own recordings.
"Sir Eugene Walker, you have been chosen as Journeyman," one of the Fish Guild members first said. "Your job on the planet called Earth was to preserve and deliver species for conservation." Eugene didn't have the heart to tell them these particular species were food, but there was no reason to get bogged down in the semantics of it all.
"To this end, we have a similar need," another one of the Fish Guild members said.
The conditions were then explained in great detail. Occasionally the recordings would break up, or fade out, and the Fish Guild's actual language was detected if only for a few brief seconds. There was a barrage of gibberish and burps that were vocalized, and Eugene assumed this is why everything was recorded. It had to be translated back and forth, and that took time. He didn't care since he had light years of time on his hands. To the best of his knowledge, and with no calendar to speak of, that was approximately five Earth years in the past.
When the load door ramp on the back of Eugene's ship slowly swung down, he thought it made a satisfying sound. It was a low-pitched hum that signaled his arrival on a foreign planet to perform the noble duty of rescuing another alien species from total extinction. Not only was it a noble duty, but it was his only duty. At his count he had traveled throughout the galaxy to more than two hundred remote planets in order to save just as many lifeforms. That was his purpose, and as the only human ever chosen for the job he was proud of what he had accomplished.
As Eugene stepped down the ramp and out into the wide open, he was amazed by the environment. It was vaguely familiar to Earth with vegetation and tree life, albeit unfamiliar in shape and size, and the ground was layered with a hard soil complemented by soft, yellow-green moss. In the distance the shimmer of water was visible. It made him long for familiar surroundings -- the fishing hole a short distance from his trailer, the changing colors of leaves painted through the mountains, and the sounds of Harry McClintock bellowing Big Rock Candy Mountain on the local country station. The tinge of nostalgia caught him off guard, and a brief wave of sadness washed over him.
The melancholy moment was broken when his wrist computer started beeping, and the screen brought up a terrain map with a heat signature of the location of a lifeform. The ship typically pulled out of orbit and landed on autopilot a short distance from his bounty in order to make capture easier. He walked twenty to thirty yards, and the screen rotated to keep the creature in sight as his true North.
Eugene stepped into a small outcropping of bushes flowered by long stemmed floral trumpets, and his wrist emit a shallow beeping sound indicating the lifeform was within reach. He looked around, confused, since he was standing nearly on top of the red blob indicating the presence of something. That's when he felt the nudge at his ankle and looked down to find a small squirrel-sized animal camouflaged like a chameleon, emitting colors and patterns similar to the moss and the flowers. He bent down to touch it, and the skin began radiating waves of colors and patterns, an obvious distress signal.
"Ah, little fella', don't you worry," Eugene said. "I ain't here to hurt ya'."
The creature shuttered at the sound of Eugene's voice, but its natural color soon returned, showing it was coated by an extremely thin, soft coat of dark auburn fur. It had three sets of legs, the middle and back making up a set of metatarsal bones much like a dog, and the front were the metacarpals. Each paw was made of three nubby phalanges, and it constantly wagged a snub nose tail. It had no ears to speak of, but the head and snout was remarkably canine. The nose was the only real contrast, which was a ridged plate with two small holes for air.
"Well, you sure ain't as ugly as some. Too bad you got no friends. We could be brothers in that regard," Eugene said as he crouched down at the knees to pick up the alien.
He was startled when it twisted in his grip and latched its small sharp teeth onto his biocontainment suit, puncturing a small hole just large enough for the air to begin seeping out in a long gasp. He dropped the creature immediately, and it crouched innocently at his feet, curling up into a small ball to avoid whatever attack was about to come its way. Eugene backed away frantically, tripping over himself, and fell onto his behind. The wrist computer started beeping wildly, and an electronic voice, feminine and urgent, issued a warning.
"Internal atmospheric pressure is no longer maintained. Return to the ship, Journeyman," the voice said. "Evaluating surrounding air quality to determine probability of death."
"What?! Well lady, you sure don't mince words," Eugene said, trying to right himself onto his feet. The helmet, while snug, was still top heavy, and it made it difficult for him to stand from a downward pose. Instead, he slid his legs back and under his rear end, and then lifted himself up awkwardly with his feet out and knees buckled inward. He finally managed to stand upright, and started to jog as fast as his boots and seventy pounds of wearable tech would take him. At six foot two-inches and two hundred pounds it was a lot of bulk to carry.
Not wanting to lose the sense of urgency he didn't bother to try and bring the creature with him. It was more important to get into the ship, close the door, and hope the air inside would regulate to save his life. When he was just about up the ramp his computer issued the final ultimatum, alarming him enough so that he dropped to one knee. He closed his eyes, held his breath and waited for the inevitable proclamation that this would be his last trip.
"Assessment of survival due to instability of the biocontainment unit is complete. The probability of death is zero percent, or to be more accurate, zero-point-zero-zero-zero-one percent. This biome is compatible with your respiratory system. Good day, Journeyman."
Eugene opened his eyes, and when he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he let it out in a long sigh, and then breathed in slowly. A few more inhales and exhales, and he decided to remove his helmet. After disconnecting the tubes from the sides, he flipped open two latches, and then twisted it counter-clockwise. He brought the helmet over his head and laid it down on the ramp with a loud thud.
"Well, that just beats the odds don't it," he said.
A light breeze swept through Eugene's hair, and it gave him a peace he had not experienced in a long time. The sky was a light haze of blue, and while the humidity was not especially to his liking, he truly felt like he belonged here.
Wanting to enjoy the full experience he removed his entire biocontainment suit and was left wearing just a thin orange flight jumper. The freedom to experience an atmosphere out in the open was exhilarating. He took deep breaths, and lay back on the ramp, sprawled out without a care in the universe. The eventual clickety-clack of little nails on small paws brought him out of his slumber.
The creature was making its way up the ramp, and paused to inspect Eugene's suit that was strewn haphazardly on the ramp. It sniffed quickly, and then walked over to Eugene, sniffing his feet, and then his legs and finally up to his hand, which lay on the ramp.
"You gave me quite a scare, but I guess I gave you one, too. I've gotten a bit too sloppy on these trips, and have stopped taking the right precautions," Eugene said slowly lifting his hand for the creature to sniff some more.
"I don't know how to chart a course back to this place, but it sure would be nice to come back for a visit. We'll have to talk to the Fish Guild about that soon enough."
Eugene cautiously petted the back of the creature in long strokes. His large, calloused hand almost smothering the tiny alien. It made a light humming sound that indicated the experience was favorable. Eugene decided to pick the creature up and cradle it in his lap. It curled up into arms, and he started stroking the back some more and then rubbing the tummy.
Normally bringing a creature on board required some form of tranquilizer, or a lot of coaxing onto the ship. The Fish Guild provided all manner of instruments to perform the job, sometimes supplying him with a mysterious electronic collar to make the creatures more docile. This is the first time Eugene would bring aboard an alien willingly.
There the two of them sat for a spell, enjoying the quiet, and distant rustling sounds of the tree tops swaying in the wind.
The cryo unit was snug enough with him alone, but he decided to make room for the creature as well. The ship was always retrofitted with whatever size capsule was necessary to house the endangered species. In the case of this creature there was a standard size pod supplied, which would end up going unused.
Eugene was growing fond of his companion, more so than any others he had rescued. He was surprised by his affections and decided the only thing to do now was to give the creature a name. It was unlikely the Fish Guild would let him keep it as a pet, but the desire would be his little secret.
"Apollo. How does that name suit you?" Eugene asked the creature. It stared up at him unaware that it should take some comfort in having been given a name.
"I suppose you ain't used to bein' a pet. No matter. Apollo it is." he said as he buckled his waist belt and pulled down the lid.
Apollo was already building a sense of trust with Eugene, and snuggled up warmly between his body and arm, nestling its nose into the man's armpit. An emotional warmth swaddled Eugene and he realized that what he was missing wasn't really a purpose -- it was companionship. What to do about it seemed out of his grasp, but he was certain it would involve telling the Fish Guild he was done as Journeyman. Eugene and Apollo slept soundly, cradled together in an improbable friendship.
"Awaken, Journeyman. You have reached Planet Six in the Alpha Quadrant of Centauri Prime," the ship's female computer companion said. Eugene stirred awake and blinked his eyes a few times.
"Awaken, Journeyman. You have reached Planet…"
"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya' the first time. Always with the formalities. How about some friendly morning chit chat?"
"The temperature on Planet Six is 137 degrees Celsius, while Carbon Dioxide levels remain steady at 95.7 percent, and acid fog ratings are on the decline at 3.2 pH."
"You've done mastered the art of small talk. Ugh, what I wouldn't give for a coffee right now." Eugene looked down at Apollo, who was stirring awake as well. The creature yawned, and Eugene followed suit and then popped the lid open on the cryo unit.
"Proximity warning, Journeyman. Incoming fleet of spacecraft." the computer called.
"Huh? Uh, I thought we were the only ones out here?"
"These craft are from the Atariun race of Planet 2 in the Zeta Quadrant of Centauri Prime."
"You never told me there were other intelligent species out here. I thought me and the Fish Guild were it."
"You never asked."
"Lady, you'll be the death of me. So, what exactly am I supposed to do?"
"You are being hailed. Would you like to answer?"
"Should I?"
"I'm not programmed for intergalactic relations or customs of protocol with other intelligent life forms. Opening channel."
"Wait!"
A hologram flickered on in the center of the bridge, and Eugene could barely see into a large room that held what looked like a massive fish tank. Two bi-pedal humanoids stood on either side of it, each behind podium consoles, as if they were ready to begin a debate. They were covered in a shimmering glossy fabric from head to toe, and their eyes and mouth were covered by a mask containing dark goggles and a circular breathing apparatus. Inside the tank was a dense, pale green liquid that looked to contain a lifeform of some sort or another. A tentacle slid into view and streaked down the glass, but it's all that was visible. Above the tank a single circular blue light flickered. It was an indication the creature was speaking.
"We are intercepting cargo that you are known to have on board," the alien said through digital translation, which was relayed as a monotone robotic voice. "For the atrocities visited upon more than two hundred planets you have been found guilty. Your life force is to be terminated immediately. If you relinquish the cargo without resistance, we will make the judgment painless."
"It seems we have some misunderstanding. What atrocities are you talking about? I'm bringing this little guy to a nature reserve here on this planet we're orbiting now."
"This is not the truth you tell. You are the Journeyman, are you not?"
"Yes, I travel around the galaxy bringing these creatures back here for conservation." The two humanoids behind the podiums looked toward one another and began typing furiously. One of them looked at the fish tank, and the blue light flickered again.
"Yes, you bring them here for consumption."
Beads of sweat were forming on Eugene's brow. He wasn't sure if the conversation was headed in the right direction, also not being programmed for intergalactic relations or customs of protocol with other intelligent life forms.
"I think we got our wires crossed, fellas. The word you're looking for is conservation. When you consume something it's food. Apollo here ain't gonna end up on a plate if that's what you mean," Eugene said.
The two debaters typed some more, and an uncomfortable silence started to seep into Eugene's subconscious. A dreadful realization overtook him, and now only after bonding with Apollo was he concerned that this would finally be the end of the line.
"It appears the translation provided by, as you so call, the Fish Guild, was not sufficient. They are a consumer of rare delicacies and have been probing planets in search of scarce food sources. As they are unable to travel outside their atmosphere, or replicate it synthetically, they employ a Journeyman."
"Oh, lordy, you mean I ain't been saving them? They're eating them!"
"Your reaction informs us you had no intention of harming the creatures. Our purpose is to bioengineer and clone species such as the one you're holding in order to preserve their life force. The Fish Guild has made this quite difficult."
Eugene quickly began considering all of his options. He could ask to return to Earth, but without Apollo it would be just as pointless an existence. He was finished letting his chips fall as they may and wanted an opportunity to forge his own path. The haphazard circumstances that found him in this predicament were no longer going to control his destiny.
"What will you do with Apollo?"
"We will acquire its genetic makeup, and this will be implanted into seeds. The creature will then be returned to its mother planet, and the spores from the seeds will be deployed, replenishing the species."
"I will return with him," Eugene insisted. It was a gamble to be so forward, but for all he knew they could disintegrate him instantaneously. Given the odds he had nothing more to lose.
"If you do this you will never return to the planet from which you came. Your ship will be decommissioned, and there you will live out your days. The planet's biome is suitable to your kind with ample sustenance. The decision is yours, Journeyman."
"I've already made up my mind. Take us back."
"Very well. Begin your cryo-sleep, and you will awake at your destination."
Eugene gathered up Apollo, and they once again bed down for the long trip. Before closing the lid, his curiosity got the best of him.
"I know it ain't none of my business, but what's to come of the Fish Guild? I suspect they'll pay for their crimes."
"We will use idioms if you prefer. It is customary in your tongue to use one when the true nature of what's being said is unpalatable, yes?"
"An idiom? I suppose."
"The punishment fits the crime. Dinner is served."
Eugene closed the lid and then his eyes. He was headed to his new home world with his new friend, and that's all that really mattered.