“I want Jamie. Put Jamie on.”
“Not until you tell me who you are,” Tony looked under the screen and then back at Jelly, “USARIC?”
“My name is Jelly Anderson.”
Tony raised his eyebrows in amazement, “You’re J-Jelly Anderson?”
“Yes. Put Jamie on.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Don’t care. I want Jamie.”
“He’s not here, I’m afraid,” Tony whispered. “He’s at school.”
Jelly’s face fell, fueled with anger. She tapped the side of the screen with her claw as if trying to goad a mouse, “No. No, I want Jamie.”
“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “If you call in a few hours when he’s home, I’ll let him know you—”
“—I want Jamie,” Jelly burst into tears and clenched her fist.
KER-SMASH!
She punched through the screen and smashed the glass, severing the connection. “Agggghhhh!” She took the screen’s wires in her paw and tore them out like a bunch of stringy intestines. The force yanked the screen from the desk. It whipped off the deck and crashed to the floor. Sparks and jolts of spent electricity whizzed into the air, underscoring her juvenile-like sobs.
The color came back to Manuel as he whirred back to life, “All done?”
“No,” Jelly wept and stomped her feet on the ground in a tantrum, “He wasn’t there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—”
“—What’s all this shouting?” Tripp walked into the control deck and immediately spotted the wreckage on the floor, “What happened?”
He looked up and saw the torn wires and cables hanging across Jelly’s infinity claws, “Jelly?”
“What?”
“Did you do this?”
“Yes. Bad screen.”
“You can’t go around damaging USARIC property like this. They’ll dock our wages if there’s any damage done.”
“So?”
Tripp crouched down and scooped the battered monitor into his arms. The wires streaked from the shattered glass a few meters away in Jelly’s claws.
“Jelly. Let go of the wires.”
“No.”
“Jelly, I’m the captain of this ship. You have to obey me.”
She tugged taut on the wires and refused to let go, “Mine.”
“No, Jelly. Not yours. Let go of the wires. I need to get this screen fixed.”
“Mine,” Jelly coiled the metal connector at the end of each strand around her wrist. She wrapped each infinity claw around it and tugged it back to her hip, forcing Tripp to walk toward her.
“I’m not going to say it again, you bad girl. This is a direct order. Let go of the wires.”
“No,” she reached across the taut wires with her other paw and gripped them, pulling him closer still, “It’s mine.”
“Look at it. It’s useless. What do you want a broken screen for?”
“Don’t care. It’s mine.”
Tripp dropped the broken device to the floor. Jelly’s elbows hit the flight deck due to the lack of pull.
“Fine. You want a broken flight screen and a fistful of wires? You got it.”
He let go of the cables and turned to Manuel in a huff.
“Update on Charlie, please.”
“Miss Anderson used the frequency to call home. I’m afraid if they had attempted to make contact, we would have missed it.”
“Why did you let her make the call?”
“She threatened to scratch my eyes out and make love to the sockets—”
“—Hump them, actually,” Jelly corrected him.
“That’s right. She threatened to remove my eyes and hump the—”
“—You don’t even have eyes, you dummy,” Tripp spat, about ready to explode with anger, “Manuel, you can’t let Anderson tell you what to do. She’s not in charge—”
“—Pardon my forwardness, Tripp. But didn’t you just cave in to her demands seconds ago?”
Tripp watched Manuel indicate the battered screen. He knew the book was right. His dignity begged to differ. An ill-advised retort formed in two seconds and flew out of Tripp’s mouth before his brain had a chance to give it the green light.
“That’s not the point.”
“Miew—” Jelly acted the sweet, innocent pet.
“You shut up, too,” Tripp kicked the communications panel in anger, “You’ve been nothing but trouble since you came back from that… thing.”
“What thing?”
“After you disappeared on Pink Symphony and went swimming,” Tripp yelled. “You’ve changed, you know that? Nothing but a spoiled little brat. The others are scared of you, now. You’re walking all over them. But not me, Anderson. I’m not scared of you.”
He stopped screaming and caught his breath. The pause allowed the reality of the situation to flood his mind.
“God damn it, I’m trying to talk sense into a cat,” he muttered. “We must have died. I’m in purgatory, that’s the only explanation. I’m an Androgyne. A robot telling off a household cat who’s turned into a woman.”
“Miew…” Jelly whimpered, apologetically. No English spoken, but the tone said it all. She felt sorry for him.
“What are you saying now?”
“I’m sorry, Tripp.”
“Really?”
She shook her head and wagged her tail, “No. Not really. But I know you humans like to be told sorry.”
“I should have figured,” Tripp sighed and pressed his hands against the comms panel, “Jelly?”
“Yes, human?”
“Don’t make judgments like that until you have all the facts,” he blurted, mourning his entire existence, “Do me a favor?”
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t want to,” She licked her lips and yawned in his face.
“I admire your honesty,” he muttered just loud enough to for her to hear.
“I’ve never lied in my entire life,” Jelly dug her tongue into the crook in her gums, “I don’t even know how to lie. I know you humans do, though. I’ve seen it with my own eyeballs.”
“With your own eyes, Jelly.”
“All of them, yes.”
“Okay, you won’t apologize. I get it. You’re a cat. You don’t give a rat’s ass—”
“—I can catch a rat and give you its ass as a trophy—”
“—No, no,” Tripp gave up the ghost and turned to Manuel, “That’s not what I—It’s a turn of phrase. Means you don’t care.”
Jelly didn’t feel the need to respond. Tripp, once again, was spot on with his assessment - and she wasn’t going to correct him. She genuinely didn’t give a rat’s ass about his feelings.
“And to be quite honest I’m starting to know how you feel.”
“Miew,” she offered, politely.
“Stop talking,” Tripp cleared and prepared himself for action. Work needed doing, feelings be damned. He snapped his fingers at Manuel.
“Jaycee is at Weapons and Armory. Wool’s at Medix, and Bonnie’s checking out Botanix. Can we try to establish comms with Charlie once again, please? Provide something of a salutation for their arrival?”
“Certainly, Tripp.”
Jelly rose out of her chair, “I need the bathroom.”
“Yes, go and get ready. There’s a good girl,” Tripp lifted the keyboard and hit the return key, “Manuel, I’m going to my quarters to get ready. I’ve advised the others to do the same. In the meantime, commence connection to Opera Charlie on a frequency of zero, four five, niner—”
SPRIIIIISHHH…
Tripp turned around, slowly, hoping the sound coming from the corner of the control deck wasn’t what he feared it would be.
No such luck.
Jelly crouched in the corner and relieved herself all over the floor. He couldn’t help but sneer and lament the fate of the universe.
“Really?”
Jelly shrugged and continued her business with a ‘when y
ou gotta go, you gotta go,’ look on her furry adult face.
“Unbelievable,” Tripp shook his head in dismay and walked out.
CHAPTER TEN
USARIC Data Point
Space Opera Charlie
Days traveled: 545
Distance to Enceladus: 178,616 miles
The Hyper-Sleep Chamber
Level Five
A low hum crept around the chamber. It dispelled an otherwise perfect silence. The lights snapped on, illuminating the circular quarters.
Three hyper-sleep pods fanned out like a star from the central feeding column.
The first of the three pods shimmied to life. The screen blanketing its occupier slid into its housing.
WHIZ-WHIR.
A pair of eyebulbs blinked, “Captain?” Its squeaky voice woke Oxade from his slumber.
He opened his eyes and immediately squeezed them shut, shifting his body around the pod’s foam interior, “Oh, God. My head.”
“It’ll take some time to get oriented.”
Oxade pressed his elbows onto the fabric and lifted the top half of his body upright. Poz Bass, one half of the death drone duo, spun his head around three-hundred-and-sixty-degrees.
“Welcome to the vicinity of Enceladus.”
“Are we there?”
“Yes, five-hundred-and-forty-five days of sleep,” Poz extended his rope-like arm and bopped thumped the glass case on Nutrene’s pod. She didn’t react, “Manuel-2 asked us to wake you up for debriefing ahead of the others.”
“Okay.”
Oxade threw his legs over the side of the pod and placed his bare feet on the ground. Poz forgot that his captain was only wearing a pair of briefs He looked away in shame.
“Hey, it’s okay, Poz. We’re all guys together,” Oxade stood to his feet and gripped the oxygen tube attached to his pod. His balance was all over the place, “This is going to take some getting used to.”
“I respect your modesty, Oxade,” Poz trundled over to Alex’s pod and pressed his ‘nose’ - which resembled more a mini ventilation shaft - against the screen, “Look at him. Fast asleep.”
“What did you and Neg do to pass the time?” Oxade ran his fingertips over his five o’clock shadow as he stared in the mirror.
“We played chess for a while,” Poz chirped. “I won, of course.”
“Of course,” Oxade cleared his throat and opened the slider next to the mirror. His enhanced leather USARIC mercenary jacket floated inside, “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Men are much better at games than women, aren’t they?”
Oxade threw his arms into the jacket sleeves. The five letters in his name lit up on the outer part of his upper right arm, “Well, technically, you and Neg are both sexes,” he said as he reached into his pockets.
“Don’t patronize me,” Poz moved his head away from Alex’s pod and watched his captain unfold his gloves, “We are both, yet we are neither.”
“You’re vicious little bastards,” Oxade finished, snapping his gloves onto his hands, “How did you get on with Manuel-2?”
“Oh, she and Pure Genius cheated. Destroyed me in five moves—”
“—No, not in chess, you dummy,” Oxade removed a belt from the cupboard and strapped it around his waist, “I mean generally.”
“Neg is at the control deck with Manuel-2. They’re trying to communicate with Opera Beta.”
“I want an update,” Oxade fanned his fingers out on both hands and pushed them down his thighs. A tight synthetic material unraveled from his waist, down his thighs, past his knees and secured around his ankles.
“We found what we are looking for. We want to bring you up to speed before the others awake.”
Oxade snapped his fingers “Suits me. Is it bad news?”
“I’d say so, yes.”
Oxade made the mistake of patting Poz on the back. The metal crept along his glove for a second and fizzed up a mini electrical storm, “Oww.”
“It’s better that you don’t touch me.”
“Yes, I forgot. I’ve been out of action for the best part of two years,” Oxade made for the door and took a final glance at Alex and Nutrene’s hyper-sleep pods, “I dunno why they bothered with two separate pods.”
“What are you implying, Captain?” Poz couldn’t process the funny quip.
“Nothing,” Oxade returned to the door, “Okay, my messed-up friend. Let’s go and see Manuel-2. We’ll wake the two lovebirds up after the debrief.”
Control Deck
Space Opera Charlie
Opera Charlie’s control deck was of similar build and shape as Opera Beta’s, only on a smaller scale. The flight panel stood in front of the windshield. It offered a glorious view of Saturn and the surrounding galaxy-scape.
Oxade’s acclimation had all but been resolved, “Right, where is he?” he asked Poz, who followed behind.
“They’re here, somewhere.”
Oxade noticed something unfamiliar and out of place resting against the wall by the communications deck. A five-foot-high slab of metal in the shape of a sword. A five inch slit formed at the top and drew down the surface, “Ah, you’re awake.”
“Did that weapon just speak to me?”
Poz shook his head and chuckled, “Neg, stop playing around. Show Captain Weller some respect.”
“Sorry,” the slit crept down the length of the blade and stretched in half. The two shafts of metal formed into Neg’s original size and shape - a three-foot droid with blue lights streaking across her ‘scalp’, “Just calibrating. Preparing for the inevitable.”
“Neg, I want you to go to the hyper-sleep quarters and release Hughes and Byford.”
“Why do I have to do it?” Neg twisted her head around and bounced up and down on the spot.
“Because I said so. I’m your captain. Are you defying a direct order?”
“No, no, no,” she said. “It’s just that I get all the crappy jobs.”
“Yes. And until Poz perishes, that’s how it’ll always be. Now, just shut up and do it.”
“Yes, Captain,”
She stuck her tongue out at Poz and made her way out of the control deck.
“Honestly,” Poz shook his head, “Didn’t she read the instruments and articles manual on appropriate conduct?”
“Speaking of which, where’s Manuel-2?”
Oxade trained his eyes on Saturn and absorbed her wondrous beauty.
“Manuel-2?” Poz bounded around the room with excitement, “Your captain is here.”
A holographic book appeared in the air by the flight panel. A husky feminine voice issued from the pages, “Good whenever-it-is, Oxade. I’m glad you could join us, finally,”
“Manuel-2?”
Oxade walked around the book and took in Manuel-2’s ridiculous thickness. She resembled an encyclopedia more than Opera Beta’s paperback autopilot.
“Please, Captain. For the sake of confusion, I’d rather you refer to me as Manny,” the weighty book slapped its back cover to the floor and fanned out, “We don’t have time to waste. Are you ready for the debrief?”
“Yes, show me.”
Manny projected a holograph of their current coordinates. Saturn, represented as a giant circle, hung to the right of a flashing Enceladus.
“We entered the vicinity of Saturn forty-eight hours ago. After establishing Enceladus, we noticed a foreign object in its orbit. It wasn’t there when we set off, according to the Star Drone reports.”
“Do we know what it is?” Oxade moved into the holograph and enlarged the tiny object with his fingers, “This white thing, the resolution is worse than 8k definition. I can barely make it out.”
“That white thing, as you put it, is Space Opera Beta.”
Shocked at the news, Oxade swallowed hard and enlarged the image as far as he could. He flung his arms sideways and walked through its blocky rendition, “It’s the shape of a cone. You’re right. This must be Opera Beta.”
“It is Opera Beta, Oxade
,” Manny said. “Don’t question my reports. They are infallible.”
“Have you established communication with them?”
“Several times, yes.”
“And?”
“No response. I can reasonably deduce from their lack of communication that the crew are all dead, or—”
“—or in hyper-sleep?” Oxade nodded at Poz. “Can you sat-link to Opera Beta and retrieve their autopilot’s set of data points? Get some idea of the state they’re in?”
“Certainly,” Poz rolled over to the communications panel and fired it up, “We don’t know the link code, though. It’ll be protected.”
Oxade reduced the image and made his way over to the control panel, “I find it difficult to believe that their Manuel refuses to talk to ours. They must be dead.”
Poz tapped away at the keyboard and looked up at the screen, “Good. Makes our job a lot easier, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does,” Oxade turned to Manny to find her lying on the floor, “Okay, that’s enough. Stop lying on the job.”
“Yes, Oxade.”
“Tell me about Weapons & Armory,” Oxade unbuckled the leather on his left sleeve and inspected his forearm’s Individimedia panel, “Patch me into Beta’s comms frequency.”
“Certainly,” Manuel beeped and threw a bolt of green light at the glass on the comms panel, temporarily diverting Poz’s attention as he worked on the keyboard, “Hey. Ask first.”
“Shut up, you ball of technological inferiority,” Manny’s sultry voice sounded more of a come-on than a put-down.
Poz twisted his cylindrical head around and scowled at the book, “What did you just call me?” His rope-like arm stiffened, forming a serrated edge, and prepared to strike her.
“You heard.”
“No. I didn’t. Repeat it—”
“—Hey, enough of your lessense,” Oxade stepped in between them and held out his arms, “Damn it, you’re meant to be state-of-the-art technology. Not jumped-up, melodramatic simple machines. Okay?”
Poz fought hard to suppress his desire to stab Manny in her chest. Of course, it would have proved to be futile. Knowing Poz’s fortune of late, he’d end up walking through her and spearing his own body.
Manny threw a beam from her central pages and made contact with the communications deck, “You may be our captain, Captain. But don’t ever call me a simple machine again.”
Star Cat: War Mage Page 13