Martian Nightmares, Part 2

Viking woke in complete darkness. Not a single star shone in the sky. He blinked a few times, trying to orient himself, but the shadows remained stubbornly opaque.

A light switched on above him. Viking shut his eyes and opened them again slowly. He looked up and saw a hanging lamp with a rusty metal shade.

"Sorry about that," said the lamp. "And sorry about all of this. No hard feelings, hey? We're all big fans. My sister thinks you're dreamy."

"What are you talking about?" Viking snapped.

"You, uh, might want to look down."

Viking did so, letting out a little gasp at the sight of the cuffs around his legs and the chains connecting them to the floor. He tried to lift his arm and found that it too was bound. He shook, he shouted, he stamped his feet, but no one came to help him. The hanging lamp watched it all, impassive.

After a few minutes of futile protest, Viking stood still and fought like hell to keep himself from weeping. He was in a cave of reddish brown stone, sealed shut with a thick metal door. The hanging lamp's yellow light illuminated the slightly-raised platform that Viking was chained to, along with a metal table positioned to the lander's right. A drill, a set of knives, a screwdriver, and a crowbar were neatly lined up on the table, shining and ready for something Viking didn't want to contemplate.

The door swung open. A group of large appliances, Wonderluxes all, entered the cave. An oven, a washer, a dryer, and a refrigerator, all adorned with colorful enamel and the trademark W.

The fridge shuffled toward Viking. Its door opened, and the Supreme Commander hopped out. "Greetings, old friend," he said.

"You," Viking hissed. "Get away from me!"

"Come now, that is no way to greet your Commander."

Viking wished his arm was free, so he could make an obscene gesture at the pompous little bastard. "What am I doing here?"

The Supreme Commander frowned. "I hoped this day would never come, but I am afraid we have no choice. Tinselina's counsel has not proved as useful as we hoped."

At the mention of Tinselina's name, Viking panicked. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing, nothing!" the Supreme Commander replied. "She is back at the base camp, asleep. I believe the two of you were having a lovers' quarrel, so she went there for some peace and quiet."

"That's none of your damn business."

"Maybe so. Soon enough, it will not be yours either."

Viking was trembling now. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The Supreme Commander slithered closer to Viking. "Tinselina taught us many fascinating things about humans: social customs, family structures, and the like. Unfortunately, she was not technologically-inclined. She was unable to suggest any improvements for our weapons systems. That is where you come in."

Viking rattled his chains violently. "Let me go, you son of a bitch!" he shouted. "You can't do this to me!"

"I can, and I will. You are on my planet. Gentlemen, restrain him."

The washer, dryer, and oven took their positions by Viking's three legs. The large appliances put their weight on the chains, tightening them. Viking howled in pain.

The Supreme Commander climbed back into the fridge. Its door slammed shut, and it came to life. Its smile was cold and sinister as its handle became an arm and picked up the drill from the table.

"Some of the greatest scientists and engineers of the human race helped build you," the Supreme Commander mused. "There is so much knowledge, such innovation, within you. Do not despair. This technology will revolutionize the Wonderluxe armada. Your death shall not be in vain, for you will have brought power to the appliances!"

Viking screamed. The Supreme Commander leaned over him. Viking swore he saw the drill smirking as the fridge raised it to the bolt securing his satellite dish to its stalk.

The drill switched on. Its whining whirr brought tears to Viking's eyes. He couldn't see, and he was trapped, and he was about to die.

"Tinselina!" Viking cried. "Tinselina, help me, tell him to stop!"

"She cannot save you now," the Supreme Commander said, and set to work.

"Why are you yelling at the sunrise, old man?"

Viking opened his eyes to the sight of a Wonderluxe mixer regarding him skeptically.

"Sorry," he said, embarrassed.

"We heard you hollering all the way over at the base. You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, now leave me alone."

"Tinselina will kick my lid off if I leave you in distress, man."

"Tell her to come here herself."

"She's pretty busy with the Supremo, but I'll see what I can do."

"Great. Get lost." Viking knew he was letting his grouchiness get the better of him. He didn't care.

The blender hopped back to the base camp. Viking watched the sunrise. The Wonderluxe missile, destined to wipe out all life on Earth, stood tall on its launchpad in the morning light.