Krista Gamble | K.M. Hasling

A special production curtesy of ElevenLabs, this audiobook recording was generated by AI voices.

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“What were you thinking?” my boss’s eyes were wide with horror as the change to 3055 history scrolled across the holographic headline to the Qarkore Herald read: “Sir Liudo assumes the throne after Prince Raaves tragedy.”

“I—”

“We are the Historically Extinct Living Conservatory or HELC. You do know what that means, right?”

“To rescue and preserve previously extinct specimens for every generation to experience and enjoy,” I quoted.

“That’s right. So, what made you think murdering someone was a good idea?”

“Well, sire, I was attempting to prevent the capture of the last, White-breasted Sunbow by stopping the hunter. I didn’t know it was a prolific Prince until I time-traveled—”

“So, you shot him.” The words were thick with ridicule, and my boss’s furry ears gestured like rolling eyes. Since she was an Immalyn like me, I could interpret her signal clearly and knew my job as one of a hundred curators at the HELC was in jeopardy.

“Yes,” I lamented, admitting my failure with my four arms at my sides, unmoving. “But only with his own tranquilizer!” I added in defense.

“You shot a Prince to stop him from shooting the bird.”

“Yes,” I said. I fidgeted with the cuffs of my shirt because my skin was itchy from the stressful sweat baking under the layers of protective clothing and brown fur. I had screwed up. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know there was a barrel-toothed jaguar nearby!”

“You didn’t know,” she mocked. “And your actions didn’t even save the last, White-breasted Sunbow, did it?” She didn’t let me answer the rhetorical question. “No, it didn’t. The bird was taken by the next idiot poacher anyway.” She sat down, but the color of her face puffed orange. “Well? Get back out there and do it right this time!”

I nodded, wiggling my black-tinged ears in respect, and quickly left her office. I already had a plan.

I went straight to the Time Gate. My two eight-fingered hands spun the dials from 6102 sun revolutions to my calculations of 3041 as my other two arms redressed in my camouflage suit. I had to mask my extra arms when traveling to the past. My reflection morphed from the four-armed Immalyn with brown mammal features to a two-armed Quarkorian with blue fur and a tail. Engaging the Time Gate, the vibration hummed as the quantum time synchronized. Lastly, I recorded my trip in the logbook so HELC would know where (and when) I’d gone. Then, I stepped into the swirling grey mirror.

***

The murky view solidified into spiraled skyscrapers of historic Qarkore. On either side of me, blue concrete walls soared into the air and turned into mirrored windows as they met the smog and clouds. I was in an alley, out of sight from passerby on the ground level. My holo-responder finished orienting the projected map, highlighting various vertical levels in the skyscrapers themselves and in the travel lanes in the air itself. Above me, most city traffic on Qarkore floated with hoverboots to transfer pads. My camouflaged Qakorian blue fur blended in with the blue concrete, but I stood out being on the planet’s surface. I hadn’t brought hoverboots or any other transportation technology because I wasn’t going far, but also because it wasn’t reliable when space-jumping. Once, I had used a sedation mind-link when rescuing a rare Jumajoo, only to have the connection break, and then the creature ran rampant in HELC headquarters.

This time, I wasn’t going to screw up. I knew how to save the White-breasted Sunbow this time. As soon as my holo-responder pinged the location of Professor Mharrk, I headed for the elevator of the adjacent building.

“Hello, I’m here for Professor Mharrk,” I said to the smiling face that opened the door. It was a female, likely his life partner, since she had two earings visible on her blue ears.

“The day is yours. Is he expecting you?” the female asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Then who are you?” she said, her cheeks flushing with the unconventional curtness. “Are you an old friend, maybe? I will see if he’s available—”

“He’s available,” I said, stepping into the large apartment. “And I’m not a friend.” My abruptness was un-Qarkorian, and intentionally so. Qarkorians followed traditional formalities, of which I had just broken three. I hadn’t returned the formal greeting, I hadn’t addressed her by name, and I hadn’t offered mine. But this was not a courtesy visit. “Thank you,” I offered, as I dismissed her slackjawed mouth and strode straight across the room and to the closed door. I knew where the Professor’s office was. The female’s face watched in horror as I opened the door without a knock or waiting for the proper invitation.

“Hello, Professor Mharrk. The day is yours.” I added the greeting this time, although my unwelcome presence was insulting. Time-traveling had few to no consequences. Whether I did my job politely or rudely, the blip of my personal existence wouldn’t make history books when I returned to my own time.

“The day is yours, my… friend?” The Professor was older than I expected, with greying fur down to his waist. His blue tail pointed upright, but nonetheless, he stood and went to collect the customary drinks for guests. The white wall behind his office chair slid open, providing two prepared glasses of frosted Halbrew. “I’m not a friend,” I said, accepting one of them. “I’m here on a matter of life and death.” I don’t divulge yet whose life and whose death.

“Certainly, you have me confused with someone else. I doubt I can do anything on such a delicate matter.”

“You are the inventor of the Mharrk Tranquilizer, are you not?”

“I am,” Mharrk conceded.

“Then I must demand your compliance.”

“But I don’t understand—”

“There are long-term effects of your tranquilizer on a species you haven’t tested.”

“Oh?”

“The White-breasted Sunbow.”

“The what?” Mharrk laughed.

“A bird. An extinct bird in fact.”

“Why should I care about an extinct bird!”

“It’s not extinct… yet.” I waited for his realization. “Yes, I’m a time-traveler from the future.”

I sipped my Halbrew; the cold bubbles tickled my whiskers. Unfortunately, my host was the one who needed the therapeutic beverage. I motioned for him to drink, but instead, his tail bristled erect. I had touched a nerve. He didn’t know about time traveling, and he wanted to ask me questions, but his Qarkorian manners won’t let him. I have insulted him, and so he doesn’t trust me, which honestly was smart. He set down his Halbrew, his tiny hairs prickling from goosebumps.

“Why should I care about some ‘may or may not become’ extinct bird? I’m an engineer. I create things. I don’t know a thing about rare species, and I gladly leave the jungle tromping to lesser scientists.”

“Your invention is the catalyst for the White-breasted Sunbow’s demise. The Mharrk tranquilizer is the preferred means of catch and release.”

“As intended!”

“Indeed. Once approved, it is used in zoos and then in law enforcement. It becomes common for immobilizing individual offenders and entire armies.”

“Entire armies?” Mharrk’s eyebrows lifted, opening his fuzzy ears slightly. He is impressed by that futuristic fact I have shared.

“Yes. It is a powerful technology with wide applications,” I acknowledged. “Unfortunately, the chemical compounds in your device don’t leave the bodies of its victims. It causes permanent paralysis in animals such as the White-breasted Sunbow. Collectors take advantage of it. They harvest one after another, capturing the birds as trophies that then slowly starve to death.”

“So what?” Mharrk said, bored with my plea. “Are you going to show me this bird and tell me how I need to change the technology to not hurt the bird?”

“No,” I state flatly. I don’t have time for this. “You’re going to destroy your technology.”

“I wouldn’t dream of destroying my own success!” The Professor’s tail wavered like a mantis.

“You’re going to destroy your technology,” I repeated. I was here for results.

“Why don’t you go find yourself one of these Sunbows and take it to the future?” He finally drank his Halbrew like he had outwitted me and was solving my problem. Of course, the HELC had attempted to smuggle extinct animals into the future, but it never worked. Once extinct, always extinct. A creature must live and be protected. I wasn’t here to educate, though. I was here for results. I would need to do something dramatic to convince him.

I stepped closer to Mharrk, brashly pulling my vest open and drawing my blaster from its pocket. “Professor, I’m not here for your brilliant ideas. As I said when I arrived, I’m not your friend. I’m here for either your conciliation or death.” I pointed the blaster at his chest.

“Conciliation then?” His breath caught, and his tail dropped to the ground. He hadn’t seen my camouflaged second pair of Immalyn arms when they also took something from my vest.

“You’re going to let Professor Zitec and his Zi tranquilizer become the standard.”

“But that would mean conceding to that buffoon balloon!”

“You can let your competitor win however you wish,” I said. “Many scientific battles have been fought. Tesla and Edison. Hawking and Susskind. Yorideen and Kefflint. You can’t win this one.”

“So you want me to forfeit my life’s work, my career. Or… else?” he shook. His greying blue fur swayed as he angrily breathed while eyeing my blaster.

“Or else,” I nodded. My camouflaged arms unsealed the vial of poison and poured it into the Professor’s Halbrew.

“Tomorrow,” he huffed. His eyes are like darts, thinking of how he can agree and escape with his life. He drank the Halbrew slowly. I shrugged, feinting the acceptance of his defeat. I always use a backup plan.

“The night is yours,” I said, signifying our conversation finished. I left my Halbrew on the desk and then turned to leave.

“The night is yours,” he scuffled, but under his breath, I heard the truth. “The night is mine.”

And that is why I always implement my back up plan.

***

I wasted no time returning to the Time Gate. Quickly I time-traveled back to the comfort of 6102. But, as the Qarkorian city faded to the HELC headquarters again, I was flummoxed to see three humans waiting for me. What are they doing here? They quickly answered my question.

“Did you have a nice trip, Immalyn One?” one of the humans said.

“I was successful, yes,” I stuttered as they helped remove my camouflage suit. I stretched my freed arms above my head like willow boughs.

“Good! Let’s escort you back to your cell to rest,” a second said cheerfully.

“My… cell?”

“Sorry. We aren’t supposed to use that term. Your home.”

“My home? I don’t recall—”

“Is there something more we can do to make you more comfortable? You are the last Immalyn. We must do whatever possible to ensure your happiness and safety so that Immalyns don’t go extinct!”

“The last one?” Oh no. I shrink at this new information. “Since when?”

“Since the war of 5990. Your home planet didn’t survive the ZiFreeze that stopped its rotation. We rescued you, though,” they nodded at each other gratefully. “You are the last one. This is the Historically Extinct Living Conservatory of course!”