The Hunt For Fred Prokprober

"How many do you think there are?" Paris asked, his timbre betraying his nerves.
Fry peered through the peep-slit in the bunkers steel door.
"Hundreds," she replied. "Milling around just at the edge of the light."
"It's a DAMN good thing we didn't try for the crash site when the gas giant rose, like Shazza suggested," Johns said, glaring at the geologist. "We'd all be dead meat by now."
"All but you," Shazza said.
Johns' chest puffed out. "Damn straight. I'm a survivor."
"Not what I meant. They probably don't eat their own kind."
Johns' eyes shot daggers.
"You're wrong." Riddick leaned against the wall in the corner, half hidden in the shadows. "They absolutely do."
"How do you know that?" Fry asked.
Riddick walked to the door and removed his goggles, shifting them up to his forehead. He shined the area outside.
"I wasn't sure until you discovered that planetary system model, but I know this planet…have heard about it, anyway. A bloc-mate of mine in Slam talked about a planet he'd been on, one populated by ravenous, light-fearing creatures that only came out during once-in-twenty-two-year eclipses. How many planets can there be like that in one galaxy?"
Shazza took out her calculator and her fingers flew over the keypad.
"Zero point zero zero," she answered after a bit.
"Absolutely," Riddick said. "I used to think his story was pure bull."
"What can you tell us about him, then?" Jack asked.
"He was a proctologist - name of Fred Prokprober. He was sent to Slam on a bum rap….or so the scuttle-butt said."
Fry rolled her eyes but Riddick ignored her and continued.
"He always boasted that he was going to return to the planet - this planet - if he ever escaped. Said he'd found incredible treasures… and had an 'ally' here."
"What did he mean by an 'ally'?" Shazza asked.
Riddick's reply was cut short by a symphony of echo-sounds from outside.
"They're getting closer," Fry said.
"The settlement lights just went dimmer," Riddick said. "Gives em nerve."
Johns rushed to the peep-slit.
"Damn, he's right! What the hell are we gonna do? Huh? What?"
"Shut up, Johns!" Fry snapped. "Go on, Riddick…answer Shazza's question."
"Don't know what he meant. Prokprober crawled up inside the hosing of a Slam vacuuming truck and escaped."
"Sort of equivalent to you shivving your way out," Johns said.
"Absolutely," Riddick agreed. "He was in his… element."
"Proctologists," Shazza said with a shiver.
"Finally found something worse than me, huh?" Riddick said.
"Do you think Prokprober made it back here?" Fry asked.
"Good question. I'm going to search the other bunkers, see if there's any sign he did. Anyone want to come along? Watch my back?"
"I'll go," Jack offered.
"I'm with you, Mr. Riddick," Imam said.
"Johns, go with them," Fry said. "You might learn a thing or two about teamwork."
"Yeah, Johns," Riddick agreed. "You got the big gauge."
"I'd rather miss class. Three's company, Carolyn," Johns said. "Too many cooks spoil the broth."
"You ain't gonna be broth, Johns," Fry said. "More like 79 kilos of white-meat main course."
"Absolutely," Riddick agreed, heading off down a side-corridor.
"What he said," Jack echoed as he followed.
--------------------------------------
An hour later, the three explorers returned, Riddick carrying a large wooden chest on one shoulder.
"Geez, where have you been?" Paris asked. "We were worried sick about you."
"It that what you meant when you said 'Leave them', Paris?" Shazza asked.
"You found something?" Fry asked. "Weapons?"
"Allah was smiling on us," Imam said.
"If he grins at this sort of predicament, holy man, then he owns a damn crocodile smile," Riddick said. "No, no guns…but I did find this paperwork…Prokprober WAS here."
Riddick dropped the chest to the floor with a loud thud, springing the lid open. Johns grabbed a notebook from off the top of the pile inside and paged through it.
"Geez…it's all written in some foreign language," he said. "Russian, maybe."
Paris looked over Johns' shoulder.
"No, not Russian…Greek perhaps?"
"No," Riddick said. "It's Pig Latin."
"You can read Pig Latin?" Fry asked.
"One doesn't spend half his life in the slam with a headphone cord draped around his neck without believing, Carolyn, and I absolutely believe in Berlitz."
"What's the notebook say?" Shazza asked.
"Seems Prokprober had been experimenting down in the bowels of the planet while his settlement-chums spent all their time up in the sunlight."
"Sounds like a charmer," Shazza said.
"Absolutely," Riddick said. "Anyway, Prokprober 's notes say he located some sort of pacifist alien faction, ones tired of all the violence and cannibalism and killing. They had turned to vegetarianism, and wanted Prokprober to help them escape from this planet to flee to Planet Vegetesai."
"Incredible!" Imam said. "Allah showed them the way of the broccoli."
"Prokprober even named the alien species," Riddick added.
"What are they called?" Shazza asked.
"Hammeroids."
"After their unusual head structure?" Ali asked. Jack just shook his head.
"Cute kid," Riddick said. "Naïve, but cute."
"So, what happened to the peacenik Hammeroids?" Johns asked.
"Don't know. Prokprober's last entry reads 'The other asshole settlers don't agree with my plan…' and that's it."
The lights suddenly sputtered out and then came back on, but dimmer still. Echoes abounded…nearer…nearer.
"Well, that's just a Jim Dandy story, Shiv-man," Johns said, "but I repeat my earlier question: What the hell are we gonna do now?"
"I think we can use Prokprober's information to our advantage. If there ARE friendly Hammeroids, we need to contact them somehow and get their help traveling over to the crash site to get those fuel cells."
"How are we gonna do that?" Jack asked.
"Allah will provide an answer," Imam said.
"Fortunately, Prokprober also learned a little Hammeroidese…," Riddick said.
"Which you just happen to be able to read and speak?" Fry asked, eyebrow raised.
"Absolutely."
"THERE'S my God, Mr. Riddick," Imam exclaimed.
"Yeah, padre…Allah and me…we're like Batman and Robin," Riddick said.
"The Green Hornet and Kato," Shazza offered.
"Peanut Butter and Jelly," Ali said.
"Marv Albert and Marvetta Albert," Jack offered.
"Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee," Johns said.
"Absolutely."
"So, what do we do?" Shazza asked.
"We have to find a way to communicate with the dove Hammeroids without the other aliens getting suspicious. They get one whiff of what we're trying to do and it's adios muchachos. Fortunately, Prokprober has provided us with the name of the leader of the pacifists..it's RayMiEss."
"RayMiEss?" Paris asked.
"Guess those were the closest approximations to the actual alien echo-notes-sibilants that he could come up with. Is the camp PA system still working?"
"Suppose so," Fry said. "Why?"
Riddick fired up the PA system, eliciting a chorus of squeals. He pulled the microphone close and began to echo-warble: "prok - prober …prok - prober…"
"Do you think RayMiEss will be the only alien that knew Prokprober's name?" Shazza asked.
"Have to risk it…"
They listened. Riddick repeated his call twice more…No response.
"This is bullshit," Johns said. The lights failed…flickered…failed again…then returned, this time very dim. Suddenly, at the rear of the structure, came a faint echo-warble…just loud enough to hear:
"prok - prober - prok - prober"
"Could just be mimicking you," Fry said.
"Could be," Riddick said. "Prokprober was always a bit anal. We have to hope he gave RayMiEss his full, formal name."
Riddick switched off the PA and walked to the rear door.
"Prok - prober - Prok - prober," he echo-warbled quietly.
"Do you really think those mindless killing machines will understand you're asking for his first name?" Johns asked.
"They can answer with just a single echo," Riddick said.
"Yeah, but will they?" Fry asked.
For a while…nothing. Then, amid the cacophony of echo-sounds came one distinct syllable-note from just beyond the door: "Fred."
"I'll be damned," Fry said. "Now what?"
Riddick pursed his lips and thought. He sprung across the room.
"I need a map of this sector or space…" He found a pile of star charts and began shoving them off the table one by one. "No…..no…..no. We have to go someplace deep space…deep….OKAY!"
Riddick returned to the rear door and began to converse with the alien leader. The sight of the ripped escaped convict echoing like a Hammeroid flabbergasted the rest of the HG survivors into silence.
After a few minutes of back-and-forth, Riddick suddenly slapped the door loudly and shook his head once as though physically struck.
"What is it?" Fry asked. "What did he say?"
"He's right," Riddick replied. "It's our only chance. Imam, you and your boys go to the food locker and gather up all the pseudo-meat you can carry. We're gonna build ourselves a decoy."
-------------------------------
Half-an-hour later the self-controlled vacuuming unit stood topped by a makeshift torso of PVC pipes, bailing wire, and a banana cream pie plate with two "Free 500 Hours of AOL" discs stuck on for eyes. Lashed to the fake human was every bit of un-canned Spam in the settlement's stores. The stench reminded Riddick of shower day at Slam.
"Pathetic," Johns said, eyeing the conglomeration.
"Looks clear-ly fake," Riddick said. To us anyway, but not for them."
"So we attract all the Hammeroids with this, snap our fingers and they leave us alone to stroll to the crash site?" Shazza asked.
"No…RayMiEss and his friends are gonna fly us over there during the commotion," Riddick answered.
"WHAT?" Johns said. "ARE YOU NUTS? NO WAY!"
"Shut up, you hop-head," Fry said. She turned to Riddick. "Is that wise? You know they are blood-thirsty predators."
"RayMiEss has assured me his people need us as much as they need them. He says time is growing short for them as well."
"Allah will watch over us all," Imam offered.
"Well, seeing as Allah has been on our side during this whole freakin disaster," Johns said, "count me OUT."
The room was suddenly filled with the sounds of claws scratching across the roof above them; of echoes all around them.
"As I was saying," Johns said, "count me IN."
"Then it's time we met RayMiEss and his men," Riddick said. He went to the rear door, said a few words in echo, and then unbolted the lock. The HG members moved back, away from the door as it swung open, and Riddick dimmed the inside lights to near blackness.
The Hammeroids stalked in and arranged themselves in an unmoving line facing the line of humans across the dim space. The two groups shuffled in nervous silence for a bit, before RayMiEss echoed-up.
Riddick stepped forward and bowed. "He asked who he had been speaking to," he whispered to the others. RayMiEss made a gesture with his foreclaw and emitted a short reply.
"What did he say?" Fry asked.
"Said he knew my friend Prokprober and that he was a Grade A human. I didn't have the heart to burst his bubble about Fred."
Johns fingered the trigger on his gauge. "There's about a million things can still go wrong with this stunt," he said. A few of the Hammeroids twitched in response to his edginess.
"So, do we do this or not?" Johns asked. He looked at his wristwatch. "Only about 417 hours till sunup, you know."
"We go," Riddick replied , and he pushed the vac-human to the front doorway. Unbolting the lock, he turned on the auto-drive and sent the decoy wheeling out into the area in front of the structure, its electric cord trailing behind. After it had traveled a hundred feet Riddick killed the outside settlement lights.
In a millisecond it was submerged under ravenous Hammeroids, each echoing in delight as it tore off a luscious chunk of Spam. The HG crew and their benefactors moved out the rear door, into the darkness.
Riddick and RayMiEss exchanged echoes and suddenly each human was lifted skyward. The night was pitch black as they winged away from the settlement - so dark that even Riddick's shined retinas barely helped.
"Someone must have had a burr up his ass to okay a stunt like this," Johns muttered under his breath.
After ten minutes, they found themselves gently dropped onto solid ground once again. The flapping of wings stopped.
"Where's the crashed ship emergency lights?" Shazza asked. "Where are we?"
"Shit," Riddick said.
"What is it, Riddick?" Fry asked. "What do you see?"
"Johns, light your flare," Riddick said as he shifted his goggles into place.
Johns popped the top off the flare and it sizzled into brilliant green life. The sudden brightness was met by a thunderous chorus of shrieks all around them.
"Shit is right," Fry said, her beautiful, blue, expressive eyes wide with fright.
"What are these eyes seeing?" Paris asked.
Surrounding them to the limit of the flare's penetration into the night were millions and millions of tiny, hungry hatchlings, being soothed by their nurses…RayMiEss' crew.
"Crikeys! We've been duped," Shazza screamed.
"We'll make a run for it!" Johns said. "Get ready to roll!"
"THERE'S NO PLACE TO GO," RayMiEss' voice boomed out, in perfect echo-English.
"So you can speak our language," Fry said.
"YES."
"You said you would help us," Imam said.
"YES. I DID."
The light from Johns' flare began to sputter. The air was filled with the clicking of a billion tiny teeth waiting for something to chew.
"You gave your word to Prokprober," Riddick said. "And to me. You promised our safe passage."
"OF ALL YOU HUMANS, YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND, RIDDICK. YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHAT WE WERE WHEN YOU MADE THE DEAL."
Riddick thought the alien leader was actually smiling.
As the light died, RayMiEss added:
"SORRY…IT IS OUR NATURE."

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