nani ka wo nakushite mo

[yukie]

TITLE: Fool on the Planet
FANDOM: Commander Keen, FLCL, and Space Oddity. No, seriously.
PEOPLE: Major Tom's wife (who knows he loves her), Billy Blaze (who knows what actually happened to the guy), and various extraterrestrials.
PAIRING: Tom and his wife, obviously. XD
RATING: G; there's one alien curse word, but come on. XD
SUMMARY: Major Tom, coming home. No, really. I mean it.
WARNINGS: I am an irreverent crackbunny engine whose mind was et by Gurren Lagann, and then this happened. If the idea of a good end for this particular character vexes you, do not read on. Call it AU nonsense and ignore it. I REGRET NOTHING. XD
NOTES: Yes, I do know how Major Tom's story is commonly understood to have ended. David Bowie leaves things really ambiguous, with Ashes to Ashes being much more a metaphor for Bowie's own experience than a straightforward conclusion to the story; therefore, I've been an audacious betch, taken much artistic licence, and decided that something else entirely happened to the guy. My dad being a Trek fan and me being a Commander Keen fan meant that I never assumed a bad end for our astronaut; I figured he met a bunch of cool aliens and had all kinds of weird adventures before coming home to his wife. This ridiculousness here is the result of a plot bunny that's been fermenting in my brain for ages. It walked up and bit me this afternoon at work.

The OC in here is incidentally the first one I ever came up with; Commander Keen was the first universe I wrote fanfic for. Yes, his Yorp has a different name in this. More artistic licence. XD

Mad props to anyone who knows what TV show the alien cuss word came from, oh ho ho.

Yeah yeah yeah. I know! Just be glad Haruko doesn't actually show up. XD

***

For the fifth time since they began to drive, the dashboard GPS hiccuped, turned unique and intriguing colours, and then shut itself off.

Lisa Blazcowicz reached over and pressed its reset button. It turned more colours, and shut itself off.

"Oh, blashgimmer," came a voice from the backseat. "I'm sorry."

"You kiss your mom with that mouth?"

"Like you're any less prone to cussing, Keen. You just use more obscure dialects."

Lisa glanced at the rearview mirror, trying her utmost not to grin. "I think we're going to have to play it by ear from this point on; the GPS doesn't want to play nice with your frequency, Tania."

"Usually they don't." Tania Almeisan blushed a faint shade of lavender and looked at her shoes. "I'm really seriously sorry. I mean, as if I didn't do enough to drive you nuts anyhow…"

"You didn't drive me nuts. It wasn't as if you could have known."

Five years ago, if you'd told Lisa that she'd be driving the cause of her husband's abrupt disappearance to a scheduled landing of an alien spacecraft, she would likely have laughed uproariously and told you to pull the other one. But - here they were. Here she was, with her brother-in-law's utter genius son and his extraterrestrial pen-pal in the backseat of the car, navigating a pothole-studded gravel road, en route to a projected touchdown point.

Stranger things had happened, she was sure, but nothing came to mind.

Perhaps this was insane. No - there was no 'perhaps' about it, and it was less insane than it was completely surreal and absurd. Even so, Lisa could not bring herself to dismiss Billy's message a week ago. There was nothing in her nephew's character that suggested he was capable of lying about something like this.

***

On the anniversary of her husband's disappearance, Lisa tended not to be especially sociable. It was very tiring to fend off well-meaning neighbours and journalists who kept acting as if Major Tom Blazcowicz was five years dead.

Lisa could not explain how she knew he was still alive - that he was simply missing in action, that five years ago the AI of his spacecraft had not malfunctioned and sent her husband off to a certain death in uncharted space but rather - set off on a course for something entirely different than the intended target of Alpha Centauri. The life support system would be more than enough to sustain such a journey; the engineers made sure of it. Why everyone should automatically assume Tom was dead and Lisa was (at best) a pie-in-the-sky fluff-wit chasing rainbows or (at worst) completely batty, she didn't know. She didn't care, either.

There were only so many ways you could say "he's not dead and I'm not crazy" before you started to repeat yourself and went a bit squirrely or lost your temper, and then your conversation partner would nod in that smug condescending way that meant both 'I win' and 'you poor silly dear'.

That was why Lisa slammed the door in Ms. Pike's face that evening.

She stomped around the house after that, hurling her sippers at the wall and startling the dog, then feeling guilty about that. By way of apology, she fed him half a slice of the pizza when it arrived. Sputnik would have terrible garlic breath later, but the mutt had a cast-iron stomach and he deserved a little reward now and again for having stuck by Lisa even in her worst moods.

Half the pizza was gone and Lisa was futzing with the satellite receiver looking for terrible action films when she heard the mail slot squeak open and clank shut, punctuated by the soft piff of paper hitting carpet.

Sputnik made a beeline for the door and Lisa charged in turn, not really wanting to deal with canine drool on correspondence.

It was a plain brown envelope; the address on the front said simply 'for Aunt Lisa', and she immediately recognized the backward-leaning cursive as that of her nephew Billy (William Joseph Blazcowicz II, after his grandfather the war hero).

The letter inside was typed, and was as straightforward (and tactless) as Billy always was: "You're right; they're not. Uncle Tom isn't dead, and he's coming home in a week. if you believe me, meet me under the tree house at midnight. I'm well aware of the cheese inherent in such a meeting place but it's the only one that works for my purposes. This is not, as dad puts it, total malarkey. I'm one hundred percent serious here."

The letter slipped from Lisa's nerveless fingers and seesawed to the floor; Sputnik promptly ate it.

***

Billy was not alone at the tree house. There was another kid there - a little girl about his age. There was something strange about her, though, and Lisa was trying to puzzle out what it was when Billy spoke.

"Tania, this is my Aunt Lisa. Aunt Lisa, this is Tania Xantarnivia Almeisan. She's the reason Uncle Tom kind of went missing."

"Kind of went missing," Lisa repeated, staring at the little girl.

Tania Xantarnivia Almeisan took off her skateboarders' beanie and revealed blue hair, pointed ears and tiny antennae.

Lisa was proud of herself for not gaping like a drunken goldfish, but had to make herself stop staring.

Tania looked at her feet. "Ma'am, I'm really sorry. If I'd known that the spacecraft was manned - like MANNED manned with an actual human man in it - I wouldn't have told it that it should come to see us. It talked about its partner but I thought it meant a backup AI, not - a hominid. I'm so sorry. You've probably been worried sick for years and years and it's my fault and you probably think I suck, which you have the right to - "

"Tania, stop kicking yourself," Billy admonished, though his tone was less blunt than usual.

"Only five years, Tania," Lisa said, and was startled by the sound of her own voice. "And…I was worried, yes, but I knew he hadn't died. I'm not angry with you. You had no way of knowing that it - wait, you were talking with the AI? How in the world - "

"Cybernetics," said Billy, and grinned. "Those antennae aren't natural. Everybody on Tania's homeworld is augmented a little. AIs are considered citizens, there are androids, et cetera and stuff like that. I'm not sure who made contact first, Tania or the spaceship, but either way - that's where Uncle Tom's been all this time."

"…Really?" Lisa said, unable to help it.

Billy nodded sagely. "Really-really. I haven't talked to him myself, but Tania has? I mean, I would if I could but there's a lot of interference from that region of space; all the Photachyon Transciever picks up is bad extraterrestrial sitcoms."

Unsure how she was taking all this in stride but still utterly certain Billy was not lying and Tania was hat she claimed to be, Lisa said, "I - did understand the letter you sent me, right? You said a week - "

"Give or take a couple days? We won't know for sure until he's within range," Billy said.

"Range of - "

"Me." Tania put up a hand sheepishly. "The Celaeno told me it would let me know as soon as it knew I could hear it. Billy estimated that it would take your husband a week to travel from the nearest Galactic Police Fraternity checkpoint to Terra. I'm going with his estimate."

Lisa had no idea how to react to this - whether she ought to cheer or flail or what. "So - what -um. That is - "

"We thought you'd want to be there when he lands," Billy said. "He's not going to be the only one touching down, either. The Fraternity's liaison to Earth, Sergeant Rahal, deemed Earth's people to be smart enough and mature enough now to handle an actual alien landing. So - Tania's parents are coming to pick her up when Uncle Tom comes back."

Lisa put a hand to her forehead. This was all a bit much.

"Aunt Lisa?" Billy peered at her, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little overwhelmed."

"Understandably so." Then, "…Do you think you'll be coming to the landing site?"

After a long pause, during which Lisa wrangled her miscellaneous trains of thought back into some semblance of order, she said, "Yes. Of course I am." Then she smiled. "I think I'd be a little bit daft to miss out on something like this."

Billy was absolutely beaming. "You know, you're one of only two adults who believes me about all this. Grandpa's the other, but that's not surprising. He's seen weirder than Tania."

"You've told your mom and dad about this kind of a thing before?" Lisa wondered how THAT topic had come up at the dinner table. "What did they say?"

"That I had a wonderful imagination." Billy made a face. "That was before I started doing my other job, though, so it's better that they don't believe me in that case."

"Other - "

"I'll explain later." Billy glanced up at his parents' window. "I ought to get back to bed before dad gets up to answer nature's call and finds me absent. Tania, you'll be okay in the tree house with Renfrew?"

Tania nodded. "Yes."

Lisa was about to ask who - or what - Renfrew was when a single pingpong-ball-sized eye borne on a kelly-green stalk appeared in the tree house's window. Lisa, her brain far too rattled to muster panic, just stared. "I take it that's Renfrew."

"He's a Martian," said Billy. "Specifically, a Yorp. He followed me home."

"…You've been to Mars?"

Billy looked downright conspiratorial. "More than once - I'll tall you about everything in a week, okay? It's kind of a long drive out to the landing site…"

Lisa stifled a laugh. "I'm the chauffeur, I assume. Cute ulterior motive, Billy."

"We could always fly out," Billy said, grinning, "but that'd be a little obvious."

"Fly - er. Never mind. Right. Go back to bed - it was nice to meet you, by the way, Tania…" Lisa trailed off as she experienced a tiny benign brainwreck. "…Er. Yes. it's later than I thought, I must be getting old."

"Nah," said Billy. "You're not old. The Gnosticene Oracles, though - "

***

They set out at exactly nine-thirteen PM, eight days from the backyard meeting. Billy, Tania and a cooler of snacks in the backseat, Lisa set out (with her brother-in-law's permission) to take Billy and his 'classmate' Tania out where the light pollution wouldn't destroy Billy's ability to complete his astronomy homework.

It was quite a ways out; Lisa was shocked that Art was all right with his nine-year-old son being out this late but suspected he was used to such things as discovering Billy on the roof of the house (which Lisa had a few times when she still babysat Billy and his little sister Katie) in the wee hours of the morning.

Billy abruptly sat up straight, almost spilling his soda everywhere as he did so. Once the carbonated flood risk had passed, he said, "Turn here."

'Here' turned out to be a rutted underused pair of furrows that could hardly be called a road. Thankful that she had front-wheel drive and a sturdy vehicle, Lisa did as requested, parking the car when all the jouncing and potholes made Billy's soda foam over anyhow.

"Blashgimmer," he muttered.

Tania arched a pale blue eyebrow at him; he crossed his eyes at her and stuck out his lower teeth.

Well aware of how these exchanges could go (she'd seen Billy and his few close friends go back and forth like this for upwards of fifteen minutes, with the first to laugh declared the 'magnum loser'), Lisa said, "Tania, you'll have to point us the rest of the way from here."

Tania stopped demonstrating the fact that she could, indeed, touch the tip of her tongue to her nose and stopped being wall-eyed. "Ah - right, because your GPS doesn't like me - " She composed herself, closed her eyes, and stood very still a moment. Then she pointed - Lisa guessed northwest. "That way. By that orchard."

"Why the orchard? Is it any good as a landmark from orbit?" asked Lisa.

Billy crunched through some dry grass. "Yep. The farmer planted the trees in the shape of a happy face."

"I assume you've seen it from orbit," Lisa ventured, avoiding a gopher hole.

"A few times. Remember how I talked about my other job? I kind of work with the GPF. I was Earth's only contact with them for a while. Well, the only contact who wasn't, in fact, a fart-scented hagfish-brained dipwad."

"...Dare I ask?"

"My babysitter's little brother Morty is a magnum Warp 10 tera-jerkwad."

"Say no more." Lisa was vaguely familiar with Molly McMire's redheaded little brother. Mortimer was the de facto ringleader of a group of larger, older boys who were more minions than friends; though he was as much a genius as BIlly he didn't have as agreeable a personality. He tended to turn his intelligence toward such things as building catapults with which to launch mouldy discarded Hallowe'en pumpkins (among other things) at people he didn't like.

One such pumpkin had landed on Lisa's car and splattered; Mortimer promptly apologized (however grudgingly), as Lisa was 'one of the precious few people in this neighbourhood who gives out adequate candy on Hallowe'en'.

From Billy's expression, that wasn't anywhere near the full extent of Mortimer's antics.

Tania stopped walking then. "Here. It's here - five forward and three left. We should stay back; even though e-mag engines don't kick up lots of exhaust and stuff they still get pretty hot and I think the Major would be mad if you got crisped."

"Yes," said Lisa, not sure what else she could say. Then she blinked. Was she imagining it, or was there a barely-audible humming sound emanating from somewhere vaguely overhead?

Billy gritted his teeth. "E-mag makes my molars itch," he said. "It drives me ballistic."

Tania was covering her antennae now, and looked downright giddy. "T minus seven and counting to touchdown of Celaeno and Vector Magnanimous," she said, sounding as if she were repeating something only she could hear - which she probably was. "Arrival as scheduled. All passengers present, accounted for, and in sound health. Stand by."

The hum intensified, and Lisa backed up a few feel, ushering Billy and Tania as she went. "Just in case," she yelled, barely audible over the din.

She didn't mind the noise, though. Oh, she knew the sound of an electromagnetic Van de Graaf Hyperdrive system well by now. It DID make one's molars itch, but Lisa would endure the weird feeling in the roots of her teeth if it meant she would really, actually see…

The Celaenoflattened some shrubbery as it landed, making a perfect circle in the grass. Shortly thereafter a very organic-looking, very shiny starcraft touched down several yards north. …Well, it didn't touch down so much as settle at a comfortable height off the ground and stay there.

It grew steps. A pair of humanoid figures descended the steps. Tania brightened visibly, gave Billy a very shy hug which he returned, exchanged what sounded like see-you-arounds in a language Lisa could not make heads or tails of, and then charged toward her parents.

The Celaeno wasn't nearly so stylish about discharging its sole passenger. It had no stairs, and the hatch was a chore to open (as was necessary). Major Tom Blazcowicz, carrying a slightly wilted bouquet of VERY peculiar flowers and finally back on Terra Firma after his five-year sojourn, very nearly caught his foot on the edge of it and fell out onto the grass.

Lisa nearly bowled him over anyway once he was within arms' reach.