“There is damage to the lung tissue,” he said. “I can’t just cauterize but will have to rebuild. He swung in a new nozzle and probes and a red light blazed out over her body. “I’m taking small amounts of tissue from around the fatty deposits in her body and re-educating the cells as lung tissue,” he explained.
“Where does the fat come from? She seems quite skinny.”
“There is always fat on the breasts, the pubis and the buttocks,” said Ramirez. “I am using tiny amounts from each.” After a couple of minutes, he looked up. “Done,” he said. “Now I’ll repair the bone.”
Another switch of implements and a blue laser hit the rib and began to knit it together. It was done in less than a minute. Lillishenger just watched in amazement.
“Normally I’d wait an hour,” said Ramirez, “but it all looks good so know I’ll seal the flesh from the outside in.” This time a peach coloured laser light began to rebuild the flesh using the girl’s own DNA coded into reproduction flesh. This effectively sealed the inner and outer layers of dermis and fat. “Lovely job,” said Ramirez then altered a dial on the laser before centring the cross hairs on the flesh at the top of her arm. A beam shot out for a second and jolted the girl into stirring. She opened her eyes as a slight scorch mark appeared where the beam had struck. She gasped and closed them again.
Ramirez treated the charred area with a cream and bandage. “It will be gone in a few days,” he said.
“You didn’t touch her breast except when you had to,” said the Professor.
“Hey, I’m a professional,” he said. “I won’t touch it unless she says I can. What do you think I am?”
“I think you are capable and very smart,” said Lillishenger.
“We’re all smart on this ship,” said Ramirez. “Even Gowan has a degree in social studies or something.”
“I ought to box your ears,” said Gowan. “I heard that remark. My degree is in advanced holographic electronics and modern advanced weaponry.”
“Sorry,” said Ramirez and grinned. “Somebody told me you had a laundry degree or something.”
“Permission to go and surgically remove his head, Captain.”
“Not till he’s finished over there,” said Stiers. “Then you can do what you like after all this trouble he’s caused.”
“Look…” began Ramirez.
“Then I’ll start by cutting his throat,” said Gowan. “That may be enough for now.”
“Look…”
“I’d cut his willy off instead,” suggested Ogden.
“Look…”
“And leave him nothing to play with?” said Gowan.
“Just leave me alone,” complained Ramirez and went back to work. He was, by now, quite satisfied with his work on the unknown girl. “What are we going to do with her now?” he asked.
“Leave her by the side of the road,” suggested Ogden.
“She’s unconscious, Daniel,” said the Professor, “and I doubt she’ll really be fit for travel till tomorrow.”
“Not another freeloader,” moaned Stiers then glanced at Hugh and Sarah. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I did sort of force myself on you,” admitted Dunfield.
“Yeah, but you have been a godsend,” said the Captain. “Both of you.” He glanced at his controls. “We’ll keep her at the house till she’s better then drive her where she wants to go.”
“She keeps opening her eyes and trying to speak,” said Ramirez. “I’ll have to knock her out before we land.”
“If you’re ever going to knock any woman out, you’d better use your fists,” said Gowan.
“Look…”
“Or his aftershave,” said Ogden.
“Look…”
“Or his cooking,” suggested Lillishenger.
“Look…”
“Just get on with it, Ramirez,” said Stiers. “I’ll be landing shortly and I don’t need her looking at the screens and pointing out her house or anything like that.”
On the ground, as Al watched the skies, he saw the Jeep making its return journey across the heavens. “That Jeep’s coming back,” he said.
Martha also looked up to see the strange sight. “Maybe we should move to Montana,” she said.
“It’s worse up there, likely,” said Al. “Mind you, if this gets worse I think we should take a close look at spending summer in Alaska.”
“They have summer there?”
“Short summer but long days I hear. Too much daylight for flying cars all over the place.”
“You could become an ice road trucker,” she suggested. “It would suit your frosty attitude.”
“I’m not cranky,” he protested.
“We ran out of beer last week. You were pretty cranky then.”
“You know, I’ve done had enough of Jeeps and minivans criss-crossing the sky tonight. I’m taking the rest of my beer to bed.”
“Yeah? Well try not to get it pregnant.”
The Challenger placed the Jeep down and they saw it into the concrete bay and closed the huge doors. Ramirez and Dunfield carried the girl between them, her small purse resting on her stomach. She moaned quietly one or twice and opened and closed her eyes. Fortunately she weighed very little as Stiers had forbidden the use of the anti-grav stretcher in case she woke up.
“Where are we supposed to put her?” Ramirez asked as they approached the house.
“She can share Gowan’s room,” said the Captain.
Gowan merely shrugged so the girl was placed one side of the large bed. Dunfield and Ramirez stood back. Ramirez looked slyly at Gowan. “Here’s your chance to try eating woolyburger,” he said. “You may enjoy it.”
“I haven’t done anything like that since college,” she retorted. “I tried it once but I’ll bet I have still had more than you.”
Ramirez was filled with images he found both exciting and attractive and wondered if Gowan was playing with his head. “Real men don’t do that,” he said feebly.
“You’re calling yourself a real man? I thought it was negroes weren’t supposed to do that.”
“Is that racist?” He asked. More thoughts flooded into his head. “Have you been with a negro man then?”
“Not lately – how about you?”
“Dammit,” said an exasperated Ramirez.
“You start these things,” Gowan reminded him.
“Not always.”
“Stop arguing,” said Stiers, passing by as he readied himself to eat whatever supper Sarah prepared. He looked at the girl and took her purse, looking at its contents. “Mmm. One condom, some change, about fifty dollars in notes, a few casino high value chips, lipstick and makeup, an ID card in the name of…” he looked, “… Jennifer Holland, and a few other bits and bobs.”
“Maybe she’s Dutch,” suggested Ramirez.
“Why – because her name is Holland?”
“Maybe.”
“Did she sound Dutch? You heard her speak. So did I.”
“No. Somewhere Mid-West.”
“For a wetback you can use your brain occasionally.”
“Leave it, Captain. Gowan has just had a go at me.”
“I’ll bet you started it,” said the Captain.
“He did,” said Gowan. “He was suggesting I may care for a sexual liaison with Jennifer while she’s unconscious.”
“Don’t blame the boy,” said Stiers. “That’s the only way he knows.”
Gowan failed to stifle a laugh and Ramirez raised his eyes to the ceiling debating whether or not to protest.
They left the girl and made their way into the kitchen for supper. It was a hastily prepared fare easy to digest and with no cheese, which Sarah felt would give them all nightmares.
“What do we do about the girl?” asked Dunfield.
“Her name is Jennifer Holland,” said Stiers. “The address on her ID is somewhere in the Mid-West which is where we think she hails from. We can’t just chuck her out tonight so we’ll have to
debate this again in the morning. Meanwhile we need to begin feeding this cash into our bank accounts but in small sums so the feds don’t take notice. Our priority on the Jeep is to replace the correct plates and repair the damage, especially the bullet holes. Ogden and Gowan, that job is for you first thing in the morning. You may have to go to a wrecking yard to find glass for the thing. Fill any holes and we’ll spray what we need to in the hangar.”
“Who will deal with the money?”
“We’ll leave that to Hugh and Sarah. He already has the biggest bank account and the money will need to be invested at some point. Put the bulk of it in your own accounts, Hugh, and spread the rest among our accounts.”
“You’re going to trust me?”
“You are practically crew now and you know what this is about and how important it is we succeed.”
“Anyway,” said Ramirez. “We know where you live.”
“If you signed us up, we’d be the first ever members of Fleet.”
“You’re correct,” said the Captain. “We may well have to do that. When we leave we’ll be popping back every couple of weeks but it will be far longer for you. I hope you will be able to sustain things during the boring periods.”
“I’ve never had a boring period since I met Sarah.”
“My life has been one long boring period since I met Gowan,” said Ramirez.
She glared at him. “Why don’t you go find some snakes to play with?”
“What – and give you another excuse to suck my ass?”
“Did you use all that charm to get into Fleet?”
“Enough for today,” said Stiers. “I’m sorry to have dumped Jennifer on you, Gowan, but I don’t want her wandering about with curiosity tonight.”
“You want me to sleep with one eye open?”
“And both legs,” said Ramirez, “in case she wakes up frisky.”
“I said ‘enough’,” said the Captain.
“I just thought you were talking about work today.”
“It’s late. Let’s get some shuteye. I’ll sleep onboard tonight,” said Stiers.
“You’re a lucky man,” said Ramirez. “I expect I’ll be listening to three men fighting in a tent again.” He avoided a glare from Lillishenger.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They made a later start the following day thanks to the shenanigans of the night before. Gowan, whose cooking had proven to be less appealing than a squeeze from an unfriendly boa, had taken a stab at Farmer Brown sausages and eggs with hash brown. Everything turned out the same colour – a kind of dark brown with yellowish streaks – including the toast. Stiers walked in and studied the mess. “What is it?” he asked.
“Sausages, eggs and toast,” said Gowan.
“How did you cook it?”
“I grilled it.”
“The eggs too?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I think eggs are like liver – you can’t grill them.”
“You can’t grill liver?”
Stiers shook his head. “I’m hungry enough. I’ll help myself to sausages and some toast.” He thought for a moment. “Did you grill the hash brown also?”
“Sure.”
“There’s always something new to look forward to in life.”
Ramirez was less forgiving. He looked around at the mess. “Who threw up?” he asked politely.
“At the moment the grill pan is quite happy on the oven,” said Gowan. “But if you want to try wearing it on your head, I’ll happily oblige.”
“What is it?”
Stiers explained, “It’s grilled eggs, grilled sausage, grilled hash brown, and – I’m not sure about the toast.”
“Grilled,” said Gowan, her lips tightly together.
“Full house,” said Stiers.
“Would you like your eggs done differently?” asked Gowan.
“Don’t push your luck, Captain,” said Ramirez. “At least they’re out of their shells. Maybe we could let Gowan stick to just doing the laundry in future.” Ignoring her face, he added, “She does know not to grill underwear?”
“Just eat,” said Stiers. “Eat and don’t complain.” He took a sly glance at Gowan who was preparing another batch. “We’ll pick up the pieces later.”
“Ah, breakfast,” said Ogden as he and the Professor appeared, looking fresh and hungry. He glanced at Gowan’s efforts. “Just coffee for me, I think.”
“I can smell something,” said Dunfield as he arrived with Sarah. “Is the kitchen on fire?”
“Gowan has cooked breakfast,” said Ramirez.
“Right. What’s that horrendous mess in the middle of the table?”
“That is breakfast,” said Lillishenger.
“It tastes okay,” said the Captain, tucking in. “Well the toast is fine if you scrape it a bit and use plenty of butter.”
“I’ve just eaten some sausage,” said Ramirez.
“Is it okay?”
“Well my throat keeps rejecting it so I haven’t actually swallowed it yet. Ask me later.”
Gowan, frustrated by all the comments, threw down a spatula and said, “You know, I eat all your cooking without complaint.”
“That’s because it’s good,” said Ramirez.
“So you’re saying I can’t cook.”
“What we are saying is,” said Stiers, “that we appreciate your enthusiasm for the task but you do need a little practice.”
“The eggs are rubbery,” said Lillishenger.
“Are saying you don’t like them – or you do like them but are speaking with a Chinese accent?” asked Gowan.
“I’m not really complaining,” said the Professor, “but my teeth vibrate as I chew them.”
“I am used to the facilities onboard Challenger,” said Gowan. “This doing everything from scratch is new to me.”
“It’s not from scratch,” said Ramirez. “She didn’t have to lay the eggs.”
“Look…”
“Or make the sausage links,” said Ogden.
“Look…”
“Or bake the bread,” added Sarah and smiled.
“Look…”
“Or grate potatoes for the hash browns,” said Lillishenger.
“Why do I suddenly feel like Ramirez?” asked Gowan.
“How’s the girl?” asked Stiers. “How’s our unwanted guest.”
“She’s asleep with her eyes closed,” said Gowan, delighted with a change of direction in the conversation.
“She wouldn’t be asleep with them open,” mumbled Ramirez.
“We need to think about how we are going to get rid of her,” said the Captain.
“We’ll have to find somewhere to dump her,” said Ogden.
“She has no money,” put in Ramirez. “The casino cleaned her out one way or another.”
“We’ll give her some cash and dump her in the middle of a large town somewhere,” said Stiers.
“I had my eyes closed but I was just resting not asleep or dead, and I’m certainly not deaf,” said a voice from the kitchen doorway. They turned round to see the girl standing there in her underwear looking remarkably fit and, to the men, quite sexy. “Anybody care to tell me what happened?”
“You got shot. Luckily it was just a graze,” said Ramirez.
“Where was I shot?”
“In the shoulder.”
“I mean what city?”
“Las Vegas.”
“And where are we now?” Ramirez told her and the girl frowned. “That’s some distance, isn’t it. What did we do? Fly?”
“You’ve been unconscious,” said Stiers.
“No I haven’t. I have slipped in and out of sleep but I remember quite a lot.”
“Have some breakfast,” said Lillishenger, changing the subject.
“Or stay safe and just have coffee,” said Ramirez. “You’ve had one bad experience already. That combined with the alcohol may be giving you hallucinations.”
“I don’t drink,” she said and smiled as if she knew so
mething he did not.
“That’s why you have such lovely skin,” said Gowan in order to steer the conversation away.
“White people usually say that,” she said. “They never listen to me and see if I have a brain or not. Don’t patronise me and assume I’m stupid. Some bad things happened last night – and some good ones too.” She stared at Ramirez for a moment. “You’re quite the angel, aren’t you?”
“Are you patronising me now?”
“My name is Jenny Holland. Please don’t think that is unusual for a black girl. You may be expecting Latitia or Rihonne or Racine or Mbongo, but Jenny is the name my parents gave me.”
“We looked inside your purse,” admitted the Captain. “We didn’t know who you were. Come and join us at the table and at least have coffee.”
“Best just to have coffee,” said Ramirez. “Unless you like to chew your eggs.”
She looked at the table and pulled a face. “What are those little brown things that look like carrots baked in brown gravy?”
“Sausages,” said Ramirez, who was coming to like this girl. “They look unfortunate and take some swallowing but the taste is okay.”
“Stick to the toast,” advised Ogden who had fetched a jar of jelly from the refrigerator.
“Would you like me to leave the room so you can complain at your leisure about my cooking?” asked Gowan and threw down another spatula.
“She’s new to breakfast,” explained Ramirez. “And lunch and dinner and ovens and broilers and pans, but the coffee really is okay.”
“I am hungry,” the girl said.
“We all are,” explained Stiers.
“But there are things which should never be introduced to the human stomach in all its fragility,” said Ramirez. “This breakfast is one of them.”
“Why don’t you grill your own eggs?” said Gowan and looked for another spatula to throw.
“You broiled the eggs?” asked Ramirez in shock. “You can’t broil eggs.”
“You can griddle them, can’t you? What’s the difference?”
“About an entire world,” said Ramirez.
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