by C.M. Lanning
Chapter 4: She Wanted Some Attention
The driver sat in a cafe. He hated coffee, but there was something about the environment of coffee drinkers he always admired. They lived in their own world, poets, word magicians, sorcerers of syllables. The driver also hated all the healthy food cafes served, so, he couldn’t figure out why he occasionally tried different ones for breakfast in the morning.
He sat in a red leather chair looking over the day’s news on a glass tablet computer. It had an 11-inch screen and was completely transparent except for the content he was viewing. His eyes moved from left to right as he read a story about a small group of freedom fighters who killed a cop in Istanbul.
The driver had given his breakfast an honest attempt before giving up altogether. He liked greasy food for breakfast. . . sausage. . . bacon. . . fried potatoes. . . but what sat at his side was none of those things.
“I didn’t think you could screw up a sausage biscuit,” the driver muttered as his stomach growled.
His eyes wandered over to what the cashier had said was a piece of sausage on an English muffin. The bread was completely flat and tasted weird. Its texture betrayed the driver, and that made him angry.
On his right he had a glass of milk that he’d finished half of. It took that much to wash the horrid taste of the nasty flat bread from his tongue.
“Quit looking at me. You had your chance to be my breakfast. Now you’re going to be fed to that dog outside as soon as I finish my milk,” the driver muttered, looking at the pathetic breakfast he’d attempted to eat.
His earpiece buzzed, which meant that in another second or two, he’d be getting directions to his next passenger.
The driver took off his brown pub hat and scratched his shaggy brown hair.
“Driver 2269, a passenger has requested a ride from the Neo Rome back to Earth,” a woman’s voice said.
“Roger that. I’ll head that way,” the driver said, reaching over to grab the last of his milk.
After finishing it in two gulps, he grabbed his breakfast and put the glass tablet back on the table in front of him.
The sliding glass door leading out of the cafe opened up, revealing a large crowded walkway encased in metal and glass.
The cafe was part of a floating plaza. Dozens orbited the Earth and usually contained three or four different shops and restaurants that travelers would stop at. This one was a little out of the driver’s route, but he got up a little early to try the cafe’s breakfast. . . unfortunately for him, it wasn’t worth the trip.
Along with the cafe was a bookstore next door and a small shipping warehouse on the other side. The entire plaza was encased in glass and had its own atmospheric controls and stabilizers to keep the place level and full of artificial gravity. The entire plaza must have been about 300 yards long and at least half that wide.
Lying down outside the cafe tied to a metal sign was a red husky. The driver approached slowly, but the dog didn’t get up. Its owner was inside drinking coffee with her girlfriends, and the dog was docile enough not to care too much. It had faith she would return within 30 to 60 minutes and finish the walk they’d started.
The husky’s ears picked up as he approached. Now that the driver got a good look at the creature, he realized it was an older dog. The fur was faded somewhat in color, and it explained how the animal was so calm with all these people walking by.
The driver respected its calm demeanor and slowly head out a hand for the dog to sniff before moving any closer.
The animal lifted its nose to his hand and smelled it. Deciding the driver wasn’t a threat, it stretched and slowly got up on all fours to greet its new potential friend. As it rolled over on its side stretching, the driver saw he was dealing with a girl dog.
He placed the English muffin in front of the husky, and the animal proved she wasn’t as picky about her food as the driver.
She chowed down on the thing while the driver patted her head.
Her left eye was brown while her right eye was blue, and she had tiny patches of white fur above her eyes that looked like eyebrows.
“You’re quite a beautiful gal, you know that?”
It was then that the driver heard yelling. Before he could look back into the Comet Cafe, a gunshot rattled off, and a man with a small revolver ran out the door before it could even fully open.
He didn’t notice the driver, but the driver noticed him well. He had slicked-back black hair with spiky bangs facing downward. His red eyes were long and narrow, and he was wearing jeans and a denim jacket.
The gunman took off running for the port and was gone rather quickly. The husky didn’t appear scared, but she was keenly aware of the commotion.
Authorities and paramedics showed up within minutes, but the commotion settled down when it was clear that the victim of the gunshot was dead. They moved her carefully out into the walkway on a hover stretcher. Her face hadn’t been covered yet, and the driver noticed at once that it was the husky’s owner.
Her pretty young face now forever frozen in a look of shock was quickly covered with a white sheet, leaving only her blonde hair to see.
The dog noticed her too and began to bark and pull on its leash.
One of the officers walked over to the dog and the driver.
“My name is Lieutenant Bradley with the One Galaxy Republic Law Enforcement Division. Did you get a good look at the suspect?”
“I did. You got a pen and paper?”
The lieutenant, a larger bald black man reached into the pocket of his black pants and pulled out a small notepad.
He opened it and pulled a small pencil out from the top of the notepad.
The driver gave an accurate description of the man and discussed what he’d seen with the officer for a minute or two. He showed the officer his ID card and identified himself as a cab driver with the Starlight Taxi company.
“I see. Looks like based on what I found here, the young lady killed was just unlucky. . . wrong place, wrong time. Did you notice the suspect in the cafe while you were in there?”
“No, but to be honest, I was just reading the news. The only person I noticed was the girl when she tied up her dog here,” the driver said.
“Right. . . the dog. Well, I don’t really know what to do about him,” Bradley said, scratching his head and putting his notepad away.
“It’s a girl,” the driver said.
“Oh. My bad. You seem to have bonded with the dog in a short bit,” Bradley said.
“I just gave her some leftovers is all. What’s going to happen to her?”
“Well, to be honest, we’re really swamped during this time of the year. Tracking down her owner’s family will certainly be done, but taking the dog to them. . . well that’s not exactly on the top of our minds at the moment. You wanna take her for the time being?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You don’t have to. If you don’t, I’ll just leave the dog in the custody of our animal control officer until we can get her owner’s family to come up and get her, but that could be a while. . . and there’s always the chance the family won’t want her,” Bradley said.
“What happens then?”
The officer sighed and just shook his head.
“There are a lot of dogs in the universe. If this one isn’t claimed right away, it’ll probably just be put down, considering how old she is. She probably only has a couple years left in her anyway,” Bradley said.
The driver sighed. As calm as the animal was, she’d probably ride in the passenger seat just fine and nap most of the day. He could take her out and play with her at night when he got home or even just let her run around his small fenced-in yard.
“Yeah, I’ll take her. If the family wants her back, you have my information,” the driver said.
He walked over to the dog and kneeled down.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your owner. I can’t bring her back but. . . do you want to come with me?”
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The dog sat down and put up her paw.
The driver took it and gently moved his hand up and down.
“Someone clearly taught you how to shake,” the driver said, smiling. He untied the dog, and his earpiece buzzed again.
“Driver 2269, is there a problem? We indicate that your cab is still in the same place it was when last we spoke,” the same woman’s voice said.
“Sorry. I’m leaving now. A gunman shot a woman at the cafe I was in. I had to stay behind to give my statement,” the driver said.
“Are you okay to drive?”
“Yes. I’m not injured,” the driver said.
His hand brushed over the husky’s blue collar, and he noticed there was a small metal tag on the bottom.
He saw a name inscribed on it.
“So, your name is Solstice? That’s pretty,” the driver said as the husky looked up at him when he said her name.
He walked her back to Starla and opened the passenger door.
She didn’t hesitate to hop in and sit in the seat.
“Well, you’ve clearly ridden in a vehicle before,” the driver said.
He walked around and got into his seat, starting Starla up. Her engine whined a little, as it always did when he started her up, but it stopped after a few seconds.
Taking Starla up to the entrance, he waited patiently for the airlock to open. When it did, he moved forward slowly leaving the port and entering a closed off section where outgoing ships wait for the outer gate to open. The system kept the inner section of the plaza from losing pressure and oxygen.
As soon as a green light appeared, the exit opened, and the driver accelerated Starla forward and got onto Intergalactic Road One, heading straight for the moon.
Neo Rome was one of many cities on the moon that took its name from its counterpart on Earth but had no relation to it.
Most of the “neo” cities were creative havens, places where those with tastes for high culture gathered and celebrated their love of fine art. Art could be anything from dancing, to music, to paintings, to all sorts of other things the driver didn’t much care for.
A majority of the people in the lunar cities simply used electron transporters to get where they wanted to go, so, the driver didn’t get many calls to service residents who lived on the moon.
As Starla entered the moon’s artificial atmosphere, she immediately got onto Lunar Highway 34 and followed the signs for Neo Rome. Twenty minutes later, the taxi was pulling into the downtown area and navigating through traffic. It was roughly 12:45 p.m. local time, and traffic was heavy as everyone headed to lunch.
Solstice dozed off quickly upon entering the moon’s atmosphere, and she hadn’t stirred since then. Every once in a while her ears would twitch, but other than that, she was gone.
“You have the right idea, girl,” the driver said, running his fingers through her soft fur. He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell at all. Her previous owner must have bathed her often.
Surrounded by skyscrapers, the driver started to get claustrophobic. He didn’t like driving in big cities or staying there for long. He looked around at the commotion and people walking when he finally saw a little spot where the sidewalk cut inward, and a small vehicle could parallel park off the road.
He pulled Starla into the little area and reached over for a cigarette. He pounded the top of the glovebox, and it opened. A small white pack of cigarettes fell out. His hand fumbled for them, and when he pulled the pack back toward him, Solstice awoke and gently grabbed the driver’s hand with her mouth.
“What the Hell,” he gasped.
She wasn’t biting down on him in the least, but when he tried to pull his hand free, she wouldn’t let him go.
“Let me go,” he growled.
She did not, and he realized at once she must smell the cigarettes.
He loosened his grip, and the pack fell to the floorboard. Before he could grab them with his other hand, her head snapped down, picked them up, and nestled them under her. She then went back to sleep, cutting the driver off from his source of nicotine.
“I don’t believe it,” he muttered.
When he tried to pry them from her, she refused to budge, still laying on top of them.
His feud with his new companion was interrupted by a knock on the back window.
A young woman with long black hair was outside. He cracked his back window and asked for the woman’s name.
“I’m Josephine, the one who called for you,” she said.
He unlocked the door, and she got in.
“I was waiting across the street for you. I almost didn’t see you pull in here,” she said.
“Sorry. I couldn’t cut across the traffic easily,” the driver said.
He looked at her, and she was wearing a small black dress with random red stitching sewn across it.
I’ll never understand these artistic kids and their fashion, the driver thought.
“Where to?”
“Tulsa,” she said, almost sort of depressed.
“Yes ma’am,” the driver said, pulling Starla back out into traffic and then working his way out of Neo Rome.
Once they were back on Lunar Highway 34, the driver looked back at his silent passenger. She had been staring out the window watching the city get smaller and smaller. At one point, he was even sure he saw a tear in her left eye.
She had brown eyes and a round figure. She wasn’t overweight. . . she was healthy, having curves in the right places. Josephine had a little bit of meat on her bones.
Her face was what set her apart though. She looked sort of like a gypsy. There was something exotic about her, and the driver immediately sensed a rebellious spirit in his presence. She had probably left home, but not in the same way his pizza boy passenger from a few weeks ago did. She had a much more clear goal. . . trying to make it big in the city.
The driver hypothesized that Josephine was the kind of girl who was trying to shake off her small-town life like dust from an apron. It was humiliating to her to be born in such a small place when she had such high and dramatic aspirations.
“How did the audition go?”
“Excuse me?”
“I see the script sticking out of your purse. How did the audition go?”
“Wow. . . you’re observant,” she said.
“I try to be. It’s how I make conversation,” the driver said, petting Solstice lightly as Starla left the moon and headed back toward Earth.
“It was a failure. . . like everything else I tried in Neo Rome,” Josephine said, looking out at the stars.
“You didn’t have what they wanted?”
“Oh, I had what they wanted. The problem was. . . as soon as I got done screwing the casting director, I didn’t have what they wanted anymore,” she said.
The girl was blunt for a young lady in her early 20s. The driver found that somewhat refreshing.
“Sorry to hear it. . . but. . . you’re aware Tulsa doesn’t have as many theatrical opportunities as Neo Rome does, right?”
“I’ve no choice. I’m out of money,” Josephine said, still not making eye contact with the driver.
After a slight awkward silence, Josephine caught what she’d said and changed her story slightly, “I mean. . . I have enough to pay you for the ride, but I don’t have the money to keep living in that city.”
That took a load off the driver’s mind. After he accepted that pizza as payment, his boss had taken the cost of the fuel from his paycheck that week, which made him mad at that punk-ass kid even more.
“Family in Tulsa?”
“South of Tulsa by about an hour or so. I have a friend in Tulsa who I’m going to stay a night or two with in order to detox. Those lunar cities just have a way to putting something into you. . . and although I loved being there. . . I did not enjoy wasting all my saved money for a few blown opportunities,” she said.
“Maybe you can save up a bit more and head back
in a year or two,” the driver suggested.
“Yeah. . .I’ll probably work for my parents for a bit and then try again,” she said, sighing.
“What do your parents do?”
“They’re jewelers,” she said.
“Jewelers. . . that must make them a pretty penny,” the driver said.
“It buys them a small house in a small town and gives them enough money to fill a small fridge,” Josephine muttered.
The driver thought about trying to make another swipe for his cigarettes but decided against it when Solstice, seemingly reading his mind, awoke again and just stared at him blankly.
Damn dog, he thought to himself.
“Well, ya know. . . a full fridge in the middle of nowhere is better than an empty fridge in Neo Rome,” the driver said.
She scoffed and said, “I’d happily eat nothing for a week just to get another shot at one more gig.”
This cost her a little respect in the mind of the driver. He sighed and realized she was ungrateful. She was going home to a family that would care for her and pay her salary for a year or two. Then, when she had what she wanted, she’d pack her bags and leave to try again at an unlikely acting career later.
She probably hadn’t even spoken to her parents until she needed to come home, the driver though, scowling a little.
“Have you ever been so desperate for an audience that you’d give anything to have their love on stage for a night?”
“Missy, look at me. I’m a cab driver in his early 40s that smokes and drives around with a husky in my front seat. Do I look like the kind of guy who has ever desired an audience?”
“You mean you drive this car because you want to?”
“This car’s name is Starla. She’s the one hauling your butt back home to your friend’s residence on Earth. And yes, I drive her because I want to. I happen to like my job and the fact that I come from a small town,” the driver said, almost boasting.
“What a dull existence,” Josephine said, clearly unimpressed.
The driver said nothing, and she filled the silence with her own thoughts and dreams.
“Just imagine it. You walk out on a lit stage, spill your guts delivering lines straight from your soul, and they applaud, crying, unable to get enough. That’s the kind of life I want and will have someday,” Josephine said.
“Do you feel you need the attention of others to be satisfied with your life?”
“That’s just it, mister cab driver, I don’t want to just be satisfied with my life. I want to live every day in ecstasy, my existence being pushed to the max. Someday, when I’ve got the heart of every man and woman in Neo Rome, I’ll have that life,” she said, smiling, lost in her own world.
The driver was sure he hated her at this point. She was too stupid to realize it, but she’d never be satisfied.
I feel sorry for your parents, the driver thought to himself.
When he came down into Tulsa, which was much smaller than Neo Rome, she paid him in wrinkled cash. He didn’t want to know what she’d done to get the money, but he had his fare. It wasn’t his job to care about her past this point. She grabbed her purse and was out of Starla without saying another word.
The driver left Tulsa and went south for about 30 minutes. When he stopped the cab, he was in the middle of nowhere. He opened the passenger door and let Solstice out to stretch her legs and do her business.
“Well Solstice, I don’t know about you, but I’m glad to have that girl out of my cab. She’s a time bomb waiting to explode, and that ecstasy she wants so bad is only going to get her in some big trouble down the line,” the driver said.
She cocked her head sideways listening patiently to him, and then he said, “Hell, no need to bog you down with thoughts of her. Go do your business.”
Instead, Solstice took off running after a rabbit in a nearby field. While she ran, he reached inside his passenger seat to grab his cigarettes. He smoked and thought a little more about the tough life her parents must have.
“Some people just don’t appreciate what they have, Solstice.”
She ran up to him with a stick in her mouth, but she stopped about ten feet away, growling.
The driver sighed as a northern wind picked up. He held onto his hat with one hand and threw his cigarette to the ground with the other. Stomping it out, he said, “There, are you happy now?”
He started to walk toward her to take the stick and throw it, but she walked past him and peed on his cigarette.
“That’s just lovely. Do you want me to throw that for you or not, you horse’s petute?”
She walked over and gave him the stick. He then turned around and hurled it as far as he could.
“This dog is going to kill me,” the driver muttered, hanging onto his hat as another breeze picked up.