Dough Boys by M.D. Smith IV

Dough Boys by M.D. Smith IV

After years of traveling in space, the colonist’s ship landed on Chronos-32, named such because it was number thirty-two of the many planets circling the giant sun in the Pinwheel Galaxy, one of the most distant points from Earth. Probes had shown a human-sustaining atmosphere, so it was perfect.

It was a one-way trip, not even enough power to land the mother ship, so cargo vessels carried all the machinery, building supplies, for working and living quarters, and later to build a small city. The air was near perfect, slightly rich in helium.

The landing choice for building the settlement was near a large body of water, resembling a lake and a few clicks away from the edge of a forest of strange-looking trees. Captain Ron Carpenter and Lt. Eleanor Beaman, who was also his wife, with a baby on the way, landed in the first shuttle.

On the third day of busy unloading and building activities, with eighty percent of the personnel on Chronos-32, they met two of the major life forms who came waddling up. When the first colonists saw them in the distance, word spread like wildfire, and security personnel drew their plasma pistols, just in case. Work came to a stop; everyone hushed to see what was about to happen. The aliens were almost comical, resembling the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but colored dark gray. They had balloon-shaped heads bigger than a beach ball, sitting atop a similar body, larger than a half-grown elephant, and their bulbous feet waddled forward. Their four long spindly arms, thicker than a baseball bat, but over six feet long, with suction pads on the ends. A few colonists in the back snickered. They didn’t seem much of a threat. The most comical feature looked like thin lips covering a mouth opening going wide, side to side with a deep dip. They looked like the old-time smiley faces used on Earth eons ago.

Captain Carpenter stepped forward to greet the pair as they continued to approach.

“Holster your weapons,” he said to security. They obeyed. “These folks don’t look too sinister.”

When the pair were within eight feet, they stopped. Easily ten feet tall, the two gigantic balls that looked like dirty, gray snowmen, one of them communicated telepathically to Carpenter.

“We welcome all new life to our…” There was a pause. “Planet, as you call these bodies in space. We have studied your language since you arrived and will communicate to you without sounds.”

Carpenter was amazed at how clearly he understood these beings. He glanced around as others near and they all were smiling and nodding their heads. Everyone could hear them.

“Thank you. We come in peace to set up a small colony and live and grow to further our knowledge of the farthest galaxies and other life in the universe as we know it.”

“We will not hinder you. We seek to learn more about you humans, as you call yourselves, and your home planet. We are sure you are eager to learn about us too, and we welcome that.”

Easy as that, two unique races have a friendly first meeting. By the next day, twenty more of the adult beings had arrived, and the issue of names came up. Carpenter said they called the planet Chronos and if it was okay, they’d call the race of beings, ‘Crons,’ which suited them fine.

Then there was the matter of names. Eleanor whispered to Ron, that the first be called ‘Big Mac’ and they both laughed. To tell them apart, the creatures had no issue with a can of yellow spray paint putting a numeral ‘1’ on the first creature that spoke, a ‘2’ on the next and so on. It adhered well to the rough gray texture and ultra-fine body hair, similar to a hairless cat.

Chronos-32 was a near-perfect Earth match with 32-hour days, and the orbit around the sun took 440 days. Where they were located, the seasons didn’t change much, sort of like in California.

The two races got along splendidly, and even if two humans got into a heated argument, a pod on each person’s shoulder from a Cron’s arm, calmed things immediately.

There were fish in the lake, wild food grew that could be eaten (even though the ship had brought several years of rations), and even seeds of vegetables from the ship, grew and flourished in the dark soil. There were no medium size creatures like the deer or rabbits of home. Some of the women, took to calling their new home, Eden.

Since there was no violence, the Crons insisted the colony lock up all their weapons in steel boxes and bury them in hillside caves. When completed, the Crons exploded the entrances, which didn’t thrill the colonists, but it passed since there was no need.

Carpenter observed that the Crons would occasionally ‘sip’ a raw fish through a tiny opening in that cavernous smiling mouth, but never saw it open wide and never saw any teeth. Same thing for some bits of plants and vegetables. Only on occasions might they see the Cron, sip a small amount of food, much too little for a human’s daily consumption, and go about their business. What kind of metabolism could they possibly have? It must move extremely slow.

“How to they do it, Eleanor?” he said to his wife.

“I know, Ron. They don’t appear to even chew the fish. Must just swallow them and their system takes care of the rest. They do sip a fair amount of water. Some of their settlements, far from the lake, collect it in tanks for dry spells. They never purify it like we do, immune I guess.”

“Something that big, you’d think, would consumer thousands of calories of energy a day, and yet…?” He squeezed his forehead together in thought. “I just can’t figure it out. There has to be some explanation.”

The Crons had divided their year by 10, thus 44 days to a month.

Three months had passed and the days were growing shorter. Darkness came sooner, and though barely perceptible, there seemed to be a change in the Cron. Back on Earth, it might be like little kids expecting Christmas with excitement growing.

Just after sunset one evening, ‘1,’ whom Eleanor had joked should be called ‘Big Mac,’ approached Ron Carpenter.

“I know you have been very curious since you came here about the small amounts of food we eat.”

“I sure have,” Ron said, eagerly looking for an answer.

“I think I can explain it to you. The creatures you have on Earth that can traverse great distances on your sandy deserts with no water?”

“Sure. Camels. We call them ‘Ships of the Desert.’ They store water in their body and the humps, and can go without it for great lengths of time.”

“Exactly. Precisely. We, whom you call Cron, are like that, but in our case we store food for three years. And tonight, it’s been three years, and this time we won’t have to feast on our old ones. You have been our answer to prayers.”

With that statement, Big Mac opened that cavernous three-foot-wide mouth, filled with multiple rows of jagged teeth, much like a shark, and in one bite, chomped Captain Carpenter in half, right at the belly button. His bloody torso sank to the ground while the Cron munched a couple of times, then gobbled up what was left on the ground, as a woman screamed in terror and alerted those around her, who passed it to others.

In seconds, hundreds of previously hidden Cron surrounded the entire settlement, with the giant smiley-face grins turning into teeth-filled gaping mouths. Those that tried to run, were grasped by the suction arms and pulled into the open mouths. A few tried to resist and with pipes, managed to break a few of the spindly arms of the creatures, but a body blow, was like hitting a giant rubber ball, and bounced right off. Their weapons were buried under rock, of course.

When the night was over, not one earthling was alive. Just pools of blood in places where they stood or tried to hide.

The Cron retired to their home places, leaned back in their gigantic curved chairs, and clasped their four arms across their taunt bellies, now good for another three long years. They dreamed in hope of other ships coming from distant planets before three more Cron years had passed.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright M.D. Smith IV 2025

Image Source: Dey from Fictom.com