Free Starship Home by Tony Morphett

we’re not dead,’ he said. ‘Dead must feel a whole lot better than this.’
    Then Harold sat up. ‘Hey, that wasn’t so bad,’ he said. ‘Bit of a headache, felt a little nauseous there for a while, but not bad. That flash of light, Guinevere, I’ve had that each time, is that standard for the experience?’
    Zachary lifted his head from the couch and looked at Harold through eyes which felt the size and consistency of softly-poached eggs in which the yolks had broken. ‘Kill him, Guinevere. Hit him with a ray gun or something.’
    Zoe was now standing and stretching. ‘Wow, that wasn’t too good for a while,’ she said, ‘and then, I don’t know, it was kind of fun.’
    Meg remarked, in a subdued shriek, the sort of shriek with which a werewolf of gentle breeding might welcome the rising of the full moon, ‘Why are they not suffering! I want them to suffer!’
    Zoe looked concerned. ‘Are you two still feeling a little off-color?’
    ‘Their flesh is younger,’ Guinevere explained to Meg. ‘More sound than yours.’
    Meg fell back on her couch. ‘That’s all I needed to hear. When I die, put me out the airlock before I rot, okay?’ She turned over on her couch and buried her head her arms. The Wyzen, realizing that here was a sentient creature in need of comfort, trotted over to her and licked her ear, which was the only part of her face exposed. Meg jerked upright. ‘And get that filthy animal away from me!’
    The Wyzen retreated from the sentient being who had so rapidly turned into a dangerous beast of prey. The way it was looking at her reminded her of the omnivorous Kreklins which hunted Wyzens in the forests of her native planet. She retreated behind Zoe, getting the nice feral human between her and the one who was like a Kreklin.
    Harold was now at the central console, looking up at Guinevere on the main screen. ‘Where are we, Guinevere?’ Her face disappeared, and the screen revealed a view of the Earth from space.
    ‘Is that our Earth?’ asked Zoe.
    ‘Of course it’s our Earth, don’t you ever see the satellite pictures on television?’
    ‘So maybe there are look-alikes.’
    ‘Look-alikes with continents shaped like Africa?’ It was sometimes hard for Harold to credit the degrees of ignorance other people displayed. ‘Could you search the radio and television transmissions for me, Guinevere?’
    Zachary crept over and collapsed on another couch near Harold’s. ‘What you doing, kid?’
    ‘I want to find out what’s going on. Whether the Slarn raid was just local to South Australia.’
    ‘That was a pretty big fleet we saw up there when Guinevere was screening war movies.’
    ‘We just need to get as much information as we…’
    ‘Nothing is being broadcast,’ Guinevere said. ‘No transmissions.’
    ‘Maybe the Slarn just took all the satellites out. You remember? The morning of the attack? The weather and communications satellites were out?’ Harold said hopefully.
    Zachary shook his head. ‘There’d still be radio. Guinevere, could we take a closer look?’ The Earth grew larger in the screen. ‘Closer.’
    ‘You won’t see much from space. The only human artifact that can be seen from space is the Great Wall of China.’
    ‘Wrong, Harold. We should be seeing contrails. Condensation trails from jet aircraft.’
    ‘I happen to know what contrails are.’
    ‘And we’re not seeing them. There are no planes flying.’
    Harold now looked at Zachary with barely concealed surprise. ‘That was, uh … that was very intelligent of you, Zachary.’
    ‘Why thank you, Harold.’
    ‘I mean, nothing personal, but I just didn’t think a bus driver…’
    Zachary looked hard at Harold and Harold shut up. He seemed to get that look a lot from adults and it always meant he was just about to get shouted at. He had learned a lot of very interesting words in this way.
    ‘Why don’t you dig yourself in a little deeper, Harold,’ Zoe said sweetly, but Zachary was now