Chapter 11: "The Shlarg"

Author: Marc Morisseau

-Woonsocket Module-
Gripp stood at the edge of the rink, and looked out over the ice. He was always the first to arrive during the morning shift, the last to leave when the hockey games were finished, and the fans retired to their homes for the evening. For the last 60 cycles, this rink was his pride and joy, and he reveled in its pristine condition. He looked up to the rafters at the holo banner that displayed “Rogue Island RockHounds: Season Champions.”

He adjusted his skates with two of his arms, using the other two to steady himself on the boards. He grimaced a bit as the lower right cyber arm adjusted itself to the cold, servos whining in protest. A quick push, and he was off to the center of the ice. The surface was a bit slushier than usual; he’d have to speak to the inhabitants of the rink.

He reached the center of the ice, and stood in the face off circle. Gripp lowered his arms, closed his eyes, and heaved a huge sigh as he cleared his mind. The ice became softer, almost the consistency of yogurt, and started to climb his skates. Being only four feet tall, it quickly covered his smooth, emerald green body. Gripp mused about the time a child commented that he looked like an ancient Earth confectionary known as ‘gummy bears’, but with all those arms and sharp teeth. The Rinkmaster opened his eyes, and saw that the ice had stopped climbing when it reached his head.

“The Shlarg welcomes Gripp” the ice said. “Gripp is glad to be in the Shlarg’s presence” he replied. “Look, I need you to be at your best tonight” Gripp said. “The junior hockey league has their semi-finals scheduled for this evening, and the kids would really appreciate a nice, smooth skating surface.” “The Shlarg like Gripp, we like the feeders. We will be happy to comply.”

The Shlarg fed off the kinetic energy created by the skaters. They were the equivalent of Earth’s coral reefs; small colony creatures that formed one massive life form. But the Shlarg were also sentient.

When the First Ones settled on to Rogue Island, it was decided that they needed a place for recreation, to take their minds off the fact that they were pretty much stranded in deep space.  The Woonsocket contingent quickly voted to convert their ship into an ice rink, and hockey at Rogue Island was born. The Shlarg were discovered by accident; they covered the walls and floors of the station when it was first discovered. By the time all remnants of the Shlarg had been scooped up, and were ready to be tossed out an airlock, enough of them had come out of hibernation to engulf the poor tech that was disposing of them, explaining who they were, and how they had been stranded by the station’s former inhabitants. So the Shlarg were invited to occupy the ice rink. They would survive and thrive under the arrangement, communicating telepathically.

“Great, let’s get ready, shall we?” Gripp waited until the Shlarg melted away from his uniform, then started to skate across the perimeter of the rink. He could feel the Shalrg surface getting firmer as he picked up speed, throwing in a few leaps and jumps along the way. “Yes, Gripp said. It’s gonna be another great night.”