“You don’t listen very well,” said Blackie advancing toward the men, and nodding toward the clerk he continued, “he said you’re in the wrong store. You can put those knives away and leave now, whole bodied and unhurt. But if you choose not to leave it’s on you; you’ve had your warning.” He stepped forward into a spinning motion and brought the machete within an inch of the closest man’s face so fast the man didn’t have time to flinch. “Your move,” said Blackie, as Mark edged into position next to him. Wayne moved to the far end of the counter, metal rod in hand, to close in from the other side if necessary.
“Come on, we’re out of here,” said one of the men and they began backing toward the door.
With every step they took backwards Blackie advanced one, “Don’t come back. You’re not welcome here. If we catch any of you in this store again we’ll assume you are up to no good, and that won’t end well will it?”
The three men backed out the door. Wayne watched them through the window as they headed down the street and began arguing as they went. “Losers,” he thought. Blackie joined Wayne and watched the men swaggering down the street arguing until they were out of sight. Then, across the street near the light pole something caught his eye. He saw something for a fleeting moment, or at least he thought he did. Something just like what he saw near the front door of the hotel as they left that morning. He hesitated a moment then turned and walked toward the stairs.
“Blackie, what got into you?” said Wayne as he turned back toward the center of the room.
“Miserable cowards; I despise bullies,” he said. “I’ll put these up,” he said to the clerk as Mark tossed the second machete into the air in front of him. Blackie caught it by the handle and whirled it in circles as he walked down the stairs and back to the rack of tools on the far wall.
The girls looked at Mark for some type of explanation for what they had just heard. “It’s a long story, and now is not the time to discuss it,” said Mark as he watched the stairs to see if Blackie was returning yet. “It would be best to wait and see it Blackie wants to bring it up later.”
Everyone had forgotten about the store clerk who was still standing behind the counter until he spoke up. “Thanks for the help,” he said, “I thought it was going to get rough for a minute.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Mark. “We don’t like uneven odds, it brings out the worst in us.”
The clerk fidgeted nervously. “So I heard.”
Wayne handed him the piece of all-thread he was holding. “I was going to put this back in stock, but I think I’ll leave it under here,” said the clerk as he placed the metal rod under the counter just as Blackie came back up the stairs and joined the group.
“Did you find what you came in for?” asked the clerk.
“No, we didn’t,” replied Amelia who retrieved the Jump Starter from her bag. “We need a small ring to fit around this red button – it’s called a retainer ring.”
“It looks like it screws into a fitting just below the surface of the casing; see right there,” said the clerk examining the small opening around the button. “I don’t recognize that thread size. You may need to contact the instrument manufacturer.”
“Is it likely another store would have something to fit?” asked Nita.
“No, we’re the largest hardware store in town with the largest selection of fittings. If we don’t have it, no one else will. I’m sure of that,” responded the clerk.
“Well, thanks for the help,” said Blackie.
“I think I should be thanking you,” said the clerk.
The group exited the hardware store and gathered on the sidewalk next to the street. “What now?” asked Amelia.
“Let’s eat something,” said Mark, “I’m starving.”
“Yeah, let’s have lunch and decide how we’re going to spend the rest of our day,” said Joules who was watching Blackie.
“Yeah, I’m a little hungry too,” replied Blackie, “and I have a suggestion for what to do this afternoon.”
“Really, what’s that?” asked Joules.
“I’d like to go out to the flats and see Goshwam,” said Blackie, “I owe him a visit.”
“That’s a great idea. And, if we don’t find him at least we can take in some more of the countryside,” said Wayne.
Everyone agreed, and with the afternoon’s plans decided they walked back toward the rows of shops and restaurants on the street not far from the hotel. No one mentioned the incident at the hardware store; it was uncomfortable to even think about it, but as they walked and put some distance between them and that store they began to lighten up. Joules began to offer comments about the shops they passed by and Mark was keen on discussing what they might want to eat.
“I’m going back to that craft store,” said Blackie as they passed a shop with all sorts of gadgets and things in the front window, “I love places like that. I never buy anything, but I love to look.”
“That looks like pizza,” said Wayne pointing to a small restaurant with a sign displaying a disc shaped bread slathered in toppings.
“Pizza?” asked Nita.
“Yeah, a dish made in Italy on Terra Bulga,” replied Mark. “Good ones are to-die-for, and bad ones are still edible and wickedly delicious.”
“You want to do pizza, Joules, Amelia?” asked Nita who was laughing at Mark’s comment.
“Sure we do, if it’s good,” responded Amelia and they turned into a small path that led to a patio with tables and chairs covered by large red canopies. “Judging from that aroma, this is going to be excellent.”
“We could be sitting in Sabaudia,” said Mark, looking around with a look of surprise. “Paul Whitingley sat right next to me at a table just like this at a little pizzeria in downtown Sabaudia and ordered a pizza with vegetables and anchovy paste; he thought it was disgusting. I thought it was great, we traded and I had his entire pizza to myself – no one else would touch it.”
“Kudos to you, Mark,” said Blackie, and turning to Joules remarked, “it was disgusting.”
The pizza and drinks were devoured in short order. Everyone sat at the table quietly, taking in the sunshine and watching visitors to Lindone shuffle by.
“I’ll bet he’s related to the pancake guy,” said Mark, as a being with eyes on short stalks on the sides of his head went by.
“Yeah, there are only two of them in the entire galaxy,” said Wayne sarcastically.
“Maybe they’re endangered,” replied Mark. Nita placed her elbow on the table and put her head in her hand but didn’t make a comment.
“And maybe there’s a thousand of them at a hotel convention in mid-town,” said Blackie.
“Let’s get back to the hotel, grab anything we might want to take with us, and drive out to the flats,” said Wayne as Amelia paid for lunch.
“Maybe some drinks and snacks,” replied Mark as he finished his last piece of pizza.
“I feel so sorry for your Mom and Dad,” said Wayne looking toward Blackie, “how did they ever manage?”
Blackie just shrugged his shoulders. Then he remembered the enormous garden his dad planted every year – maybe it hadn’t been just his dad’s hobby.
“Let’s go,” said Wayne as everyone piled in and he started the Nomad.
“I’ll meet you at the lake,” said Blackie to no one in particular, and then blushed when he realized he had spoken out loud.
“Excuse me, Blackie?” responded Joules.
Mark looked at Joules and caught her attention, “Oh, don’t bother,” he whispered, “he’s having a private conversation.”
“I take it we’re going directly to the lake,” said Wayne looking at Mark.
“It appears that way.”
“Blackie, are we in a hurry?” asked Wayne
“No, no hurry.”
Wayne drove slowly down the road out of town toward the mountains and the lake where Goshwam would be waiting. The sun was bright, the air was crisp and the scenery was spectacular. After about
thirty minutes Wayne slowed down and pulled to the side of the road.
“There he is,” said Wayne, gesturing in the direction of the lake and the little man standing near its shoreline. “I wonder what he does out here all day?”
“I think I know,” responded Nita. “Would you mind if I stayed at the Nomad, I’m sure I won’t be needed and I don’t think I’ll be comfortable near the lake.”
“Why don’t you all stay here if you’d like and I’ll go have a chat with Goshwam?” said Blackie who suspected he also knew why Goshwam spent so much of his time near the lake, but he didn’t want to tell them.
“Don’t go by yourself,” piped up Joules who was a little on edge since the hardware store incident, “I’ll go with you and the others can sit next to the Nomad, take in some sun, and plan the remainder of our day.”
“Perfect,” said Mark as he stripped off his shirt and took a seat in the sand. “I think I know why Goshwam likes it out here – great place to get a tan,” he finished as he donned his sunglasses and leaned back against the car.
“How are you?” asked Goshwam as Blackie and Joules approached after what seemed like a much longer and slower walk than it should have been.
“Great, no problems,” responded Blackie. “We’ve been enjoying the town.”
“They have a great museum,” said Joules, who noticed Goshwam glancing at her hands and smiling.
“Anyway, I wanted to respond to your invitation to visit you here, and take the opportunity to say thanks again,” said Blackie. “I wouldn’t be here without your help.”
“Most of us would not be here without someone else’s help,” replied Goshwam. “I’m glad you had no ongoing problems and didn’t relapse; that can often happen, but I suspected in your case it would not. Don’t return to Volcanon; it’s too dangerous.”
Blackie and Joules told Goshwam the story of how they found themselves on Volcanon and how they ended up on Lindone. “But during one of the jumps, we lost an important piece of the Jump Starter, a small silver retainer ring,” said Blackie. “That piece is critical. I thought it might be out here, but even if it were out here, we might not ever find it, and there’s always the possibility it got thrown out of the Nomad when we were on Volcanon.”
“I haven’t seen a ring or noticed anything that meets that description,” replied Goshwam who turned and looked to his right and left. “A silver ring would shine brightly in the sun. It would be impossible to miss, unless it has become buried.”
His statement was like a stake in the heart – the two things Blackie hoped they wouldn’t hear – Goshwam didn’t have the ring and it was most likely buried and lost.
For a brief time, Blackie and Joules stood just looking out at the sand. Finally, Goshwam broke the silence, “I’m not the only one who walks the flats. There aren’t many who come here often, but Joakim Liderbaundt walks here almost every night. I see him taking great strides in the sand on his way home.”
“Who is he?” asked Joules.
“Joakim owns and manages a store in town. He says his walks on the flats in the evenings before sundown help him relax after closing his business.”
“Where would I find him?” asked Blackie.
“At the little hardware store, on Tenor Street I think.”
“You mean Theadelbaum’s Hardware?” asked Joules.
“Yes, yes, Theadelbaum’s Hardware on Tenor; Joakim is the store manager there.”
“Unbelievable, we were just…what is that…”
Before he could finish three sand carts went roaring by. They turned and came back toward the lake and pulled to a stop about ten meters away. One of the riders stepped off his cart and removed his helmet.
“Well, look who it is, the big mouth from the hardware store and his girlfriend. And look, no big machete to hide behind; looks like I get to carve someone up today after all.”
The other two riders stepped off their carts and removed their helmets, laughing like fate had handed them a gift-wrapped present. Goshwam had lost the smile that seemed to permanently occupy his face. He knew these men. He knew their reputation and knew they were trouble – the worst kind.
“Look,” said Wayne pointing toward Blackie and Joules, “some sand riders stopped to talk with them.” The lake was farther away than it looked and no one at the car recognized the men now standing next to their carts.
“Joules,” whispered Blackie, “you might want to start winding up because I think we’re going to need your shield. Goshwam, I know what those men are going to do. Stand close to me, I’m going to make it come up.”
“It won’t hurt me,” replied Goshwam.
“I know, but they will,” replied Blackie.
Wayne was still watching Goshwam, Blackie and Joules and the three sand cart riders wondering what they were talking about. “Mark, something’s not right,” he said, when he saw a glint of reflected light from one of the cart rider’s hands. There was another glint from a different rider and then a third. “Mark, come on, we’ve got trouble,” and he started running as fast as he could across the loose sand.
Without hesitating Mark jumped up, turned toward Nita and said, “Stay here with Amelia. Amelia, the key is in the ignition,” and he bolted after Wayne trying to catch up.
“I think I’m gonna enjoy this,” said the man with the large fixed blade knife, “and when your buddies get over here I’m gonna enjoy it some more,” he finished, glancing toward the road where Wayne and Mark were trudging through the deep sand.
Blackie looked down at Joules’ hands; they were glowing brightly. “I’d wager three sand carts that you’re not going to enjoy this at all.”
As soon as he finished, Blackie bent over and scooped up two handfuls of snow that was sitting on top of a thin sheet of ice at the water’s edge, quickly formed a ball and pelted one of the men. When the snowball hit, it showered all three of them with snow.
“You’re gonna regret that,” said the man who moved toward Blackie.
“No, you are,” said Blackie, who noticed Goshwam was smiling again. He scooped up another big handful of snow, compressed it into a snowball and as he threw it toward the water yelled, “Now, Joules!”
They were instantly engulfed in a shroud of spinning, gyrating light so bright it was difficult to look at. The snow ball found its mark about six meters from shore and the surface of the water violently erupted into the air like a bomb had exploded beneath its surface. The sand rider advancing on Blackie stopped mid-stride. Slowly climbing out of the water was a fully grown Merculoid collosus. It let out a deafening bawl that sounded like an entire herd of elephants were being tortured.
Mark and Wayne were halfway to the lake and abruptly stopped running. They couldn’t believe what they saw. Blackie, Joules and Goshwam were surrounded by a gyrating light shield so bright they could barely make out the three silhouettes inside, and protruding from the shield was a short beam of intense light pointed toward the three thugs and their sand carts.
A monstrously huge Merculoid was advancing on the men without hesitation, and moved so quickly it gave them no time to mount their carts and escape. The three men abandoned their vehicles and retreated across the sand to the east. Blackie, Joules and Goshwam moved slowly away from the lake beneath their shield. The Merculoid didn’t notice them; it bent all of its attention on the three men covered in snow and moved after them in anticipation. Another roar carried all the way to the highway where Nita and Amelia, who had already started the Nomad and turned it around toward town, anxiously watched the scene unfolding near the lake.
Merculoids breathe underwater and release a chemical that forms ice and snow-like materials on the water’s surface; they can also breathe on land. When they are disturbed, they surface to hunt the perpetrator and they don’t abandon their pursuit of quarry. Rarely, if ever, do they return to the water hungry. Escaping a Merculoid on foot would be a miraculous event. Trying to escape a Merculoid on foot in loose, deep sand is a scenario with only one out
come. Blackie, Joules and Goshwam reached the spot where Wayne and Mark were watching the Merculoid chase the three men across the flats. Joules had withdrawn the light beam and now controlled the gyrating light surrounding them, slowing it down until it was extinguished.
“They have nowhere to hide,” commented Mark. They heard a faint scream and watched as the Merculoid stopped, then when it was through, proceed across the sand where two sets of tracks looked like dotted lines pointing the way toward the fleeing men.
“They will not return,” said Goshwam who turned and escorted them toward the Nomad, “they have no escape to the east. There are small caves there,” he pointed west toward a low ridge, “but it is not likely they would have reached them. Acondwa is very quick in the sand and especially quick when he is hungry.”
“So that’s what you do out here, you look after the animals?” asked Mark.
“Yes, but Acondwa occupies most of my time. There are only a few of his species remaining. I will stay here. You should go, before Acondwa returns. He has never attacked me, but I can’t guarantee he would not assault you if he is still hungry and I wouldn’t want him to be harmed,” he said looking at the soft glow remaining in Joules’ hands.
“Thanks again for your help,” said Blackie who didn’t know if he should shake Goshwam’s hand, or salute, or exactly what to do.
Goshwam gave a slight bow which Blackie returned. “Follow your instincts,” said Goshwam. Then he communicated something to Blackie without speaking. It was obvious that’s what was happening – their eyes were fixed on each other like they were somehow visually transmitting words. Then, without warning, Goshwam turned and walked back toward the lake. Waving one hand in the air he said, “Goodbye to all,” as he strode across the sand.
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