One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy

by Stephen Tunney

  Bruegel shrugged and nodded his head.

  “Okay. The three of you look like nice kids. You don’t look like you are dressed up to go exploring the far side of the Moon. Or to go looking for trouble in restricted areas. You look like you are all going to a club. I take your word for that.”

  The officer went over to the Pacer.

  “Tell me the truth. Whose car is this?”

  “My mother’s.”

  “So if I were to punch in the number on the license plate on our computer over there in our police cruiser, whose name would appear?”

  “Elizabeth Westminster. My mother.”

  “Your mother would be surprised if I told her that you were driving with a fake license?”

  “Yes. She thinks I have a real license.”

  “You realize that we cannot allow you to drive this car home? We will have to call a tow truck to come get it. It’s going to be very expensive. Your mother will have to pay for it.”

  “Please, sir,” said Bruegel, his voice wavering, almost crying. “My mother has no money. She’s unemployed.”

  Hieronymus had never seen his usually confident friend behave in such a pathetic manner before.

  Bruegel’s face crunched up, and he began to sob. “Please, sir. Please, Officer. Don’t call my mother. We have no money. We can barely pay for anything. My mother, she’s in a lot of trouble as it is. Please, Officer…”

  “What about your father. Can your father deal with this?”

  “I…I don’t even know who my father is. I don’t even know if he lives on the Moon…”

  The two police officers looked at each other. The one who asked all the questions shrugged his shoulders. The second one nodded his head, then he went forward to speak to Bruegel.

  “Listen, kid. The fact is that you broke the law. You were driving without a license. And this is a restricted area. But in many ways, you’re lucky we caught you out here in the middle of nowhere. In fact, we didn’t even catch you driving, technically. You are lucky your car broke down. What if you were driving around in a crowded urban area? What if you were in an accident? What if you and your friends had a couple of drinks, and then you accidentally hit someone? Then you would go to jail. But you have not done anything to put you in jail.”

  “Really?” Bruegel’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re not arresting me?”

  “No. But you are in trouble. We’re going to give you a ticket for presenting a fake ID to a police officer. And a ticket for—" the officer paused, then looked over at his colleague.

  “Technically, we cannot actually give this boy a ticket for driving without a license. He is just out here working on a car. We know he drove it here, but we can’t give him a ticket, because the car is parked. We did not catch him physically driving. But because it’s his mother’s car, she’s the one who is ultimately responsible.”

  Both police officers were suddenly unsure how to proceed. It was obvious to the three teenagers that they were trying to find a fair solution because it was clear they should not have been out there in the middle of nowhere like that. Another team of officers could have really busted their chops, but luckily, this was not the case. And both Hieronymus and Slue were aware that these officers made no mention of their goggles, or their being One Hundred Percent Lunar kids—they did not even appear to notice it.

  The officers walked over to their vehicle. Slue glared at Bruegel. She was temped to unleash her fury on him—after all, he had lied to her about having a driver’s license.

  But he just sat on the ground, covering his face with his hands…crying.

  One of the officers came back. He spoke to Bruegel.

  “What’s wrong with your mother’s car?”

  “Ruptured ganfoil hose, Officer.”

  The cop scratched his chin.

  “Were you able to fix it?”

  “Yeah. I finished with it just before you got here.”

  “That’s good, because I think this is what we’re going to do. You and your friends are going to ride with me in the cruiser, and Officer Duebelex over there is going to drive your mother’s Pacer. About twenty kilometers from here is a station. We’ll drop the Pacer of there, and then you three can take the bus or the train back home. You will have to tell your mother the truth about what you did, and your mother will have to pay a fine if she wants to get her car back. That’s the law. You will also have to appear in court to deal with the fake ID, and that’s going to be another fine. Still, it’s the only thing we can do. If I have to call a towing truck out here to get your mother’s Pacer, the charge is going to be astronomical.”

  Of course the kids understood these two were bending over backwards to help them out of a difficult situation. But then Hieronymus froze. While this officer was explaining to them the most reasonable way to deal with the situation, the other officer, the one he referred to as Duebelex, was sitting inside the police cruiser looking at something on the vehicle’s computer. He had his ID card. He must have been scanning it.

  Hieronymus knew that his life was over.

  Finished.

  Duebelex stared at something on his vehicle’s dashboard. He spoke into a radio. He looked directly at Hieronymus. He shook his head in disbelief. He double-checked something on his screen. He looked at Hieronymus, then he made an expression that seemed to say something to the effect of I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe this…

  He exited the police cruiser.

  Walking quickly in Hieronymus’ direction, he drew a pistol.

  “Hieronymus Rexaphin,” he announced in a loud voice. “Please put your hands up.”

  Hieronymus complied. Slue’s jaw fell open with shock. The first officer who had been dealing with Bruegel appeared just as surprised.

  “Duebelex,” he said to his comrade. “What’s going on?”

  “I was checking their cards. This young man is in heaps of trouble. He’s a One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy, and he showed his eyes to a girl from Earth last night. There’s a bulletin out for his arrest.”

  “Okay, let’s take him in,” said the first policeman as he walked away from Bruegel.

  Hieronymus said nothing. He stood with his hands in the air.

  “Your name is Hieronymus Rexaphin, is it not?”

  “Yes, sir. It is.”

  “You are to keep your hands in the air. You are to face the ground. Do not speak to your friends. If you’d be so kind as to kneel until we get proper handcuffs.”

  “Certainly,” replied Hieronymus as he got down on his knees, only looking at the dirt and sparse tufts of grass below him.

  Slue was pleading with the officers, but Hieronymus was so nervous he could not understand what she was saying. He turned slightly, and he thought he saw Bruegel sitting in the dirt next to the Pacer, absolutely fabbergasted over how the focus of law enforcement could shift so suddenly. There was an odd buzz of panic in the air. He couldn’t comprehend words, only the sound of voices—and Slue was clearly distraught, and the police were calmly explaining something to her.

  “Slue,” he called. “Don’t be upset.”

  But one of the officers spoke before she could answer.

  “Hieronymus, please do not speak to your friend.”

  “Officer? Where will you take me?”

  “Normally, we would take you to the station, of course. But your arrest warrant has special instructions. We are to drive you all the way to Aldrin City, to the Ocular Investigative Division.”

  “And what about my friends?”

  “They will be fine. We will make sure they get home safe.”

  “Officer, I need to call my father.”

  “I’m sorry, young man, but according to our instructions, you are not allowed to call anyone. We are to treat you as a very dangerous criminal and we are to deliver you personally to a certain Lieutenant Schmeet.”

  “Schmet,” Hieronymus corrected him.

  “Schmet?”

  “Yes. His name is Lieutenant Schmet,
not Schmeet.”

  “So you’ve been in trouble with this type of thing before?”

  “No, sir. I’m just the fish that got away.”

  Still staring at the ground, Hieronymus focused on a pebble as he felt the officers gently move his arms around his back and lock his wrists with plastic cufs.

  The police spoke to each other in hushed tones.

  “Something has just occurred to me. Maybe these kids are not lost at all. Maybe they knew exactly what they’re doing out here. Maybe they were helping this guy Hieronymus escape to the far side of the Moon.”

  “Excuse me, Officers?” Slue interrupted.

  Then there was silence, followed by incoherent mumbling, paniclike praying and frightened crying, and when he finally turned around and looked up, Hieronymus saw the two police officers crawling on their knees in states of absolute confusion and Slue just standing there before them, her goggles up on her forehead, her wonderful, beautiful eyes so vivid in their fourth primary color. She smiled at Hieronymus as the two symbols of authority were reduced to groveling at her feet, as if she were an avenging goddess.

  chapter twelve

  Hieronymus ran over to Bruegel, who still sat in the dirt by his mother’s Pacer. The large fellow was in a state of complete bewilderment. He was about to get arrested. Then the cops were going to do him an enormous favor. Then the cops suddenly arrest Hieronymus. Then Slue just looks at them and they collapse.

  “Bruegel. Whatever you do—don’t look at Slue in the eyes.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s very hard to explain. Listen. We have to get out of here right now. Do you have a knife or something sharp?”

  “In the toolbox.”

  “Good. Get a blade and cut these handcuffs off.”

  One of the police officers had curled himself up into a fetal position. The other was slowly attempting to crawl away. The first thing Slue did was take their pistols away from them and toss them into the distance as far as she could. Then she went back to the officer who was on his hands and knees, and with her goggles still up on her forehead, knelt before him, blocking his way. He stopped, unable to resist glancing again at the forbidden, illogical eye color again. His face went blank, and his mouth hung wide open. She knelt forward, and cupped his cheeks in the palm of her hands. “Don’t be afraid,” she said to him.

  You will have no memory of this. This incident with the three teenagers and the Pacer in the middle of the wilderness never happened. Look me in the eyes. It never happened. You never met us. The name Hieronymus Rexaphin means nothing to you. You will go back to the car, and you will completely erase all data that you may have downloaded on the car’s computer during the past half hour. You and your partner will completely forget this incident. You will drive back to the exact spot where you only thought you saw a girl waving a cloth. You will be convinced that it was an optical illusion. If you have had any communication with any authorities regarding three teenagers in a Pacer, you will tell them that it was a mistake. You do not have your pistols because you both misplaced them somewhere at the station. If you feel disoriented, it is because you were overcome with car exhaust, and you both had to stop and rest. This conversation we are having now will be completely forgotten. If at any time you should see our faces again, you will not recognize us. You have never seen me. You have never seen my eyes. As far as you are concerned, the fourth primary color does not exist. You know nothing of the case of Hieronymus Rexaphin…

  By the time Bruegel finished cutting through the plastic handcuffs to release Hieronymus, Slue had repeated the same thing to the other disoriented officer, who remained shivering in a fetal position. She then went over to the cruiser and retrieved their ID cards. She also took a handheld device.

  Her goggles were back in place over her eyes when she approached the two boys.

  “You are out of your mind.” Hieronymus said to her matter-of- factly.

  “You should be thanking me.”

  “Technically, you have just willingly assaulted two police officers. You are now in much worse trouble than I am.”

  “Bruegel,” she said, ignoring Hieronymus. “Is it true what you told the policeman? That you fixed the Pacer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “We are not going anywhere!” Hieronymus looked over at the disoriented cops crawling on the barren surface of the Moon. “We can’t leave them like that! We have to take them to the hospital!”

  “They tried to arrest you!”

  “What am I, a criminal? If they’re told to arrest me, then they have to arrest me. I am not going to go around hurting anyone trying to escape the fact that I broke the law last night! I did something last night that is extremely illegal! I should not have looked at that girl! But I’m stupid and I’m weak and I did it and now I have dragged you and Bruegel into it! I’m going over to that police cruiser, I’m turning on their radio, I’m calling an ambulance, and I’m going to wait right here and I’m going to turn myself in! I’ll tell them that I was the one who looked at them. I’m taking full responsibility!”

  But Slue would have none of that.

  “That’s just a load of skuk, Hieronymus! You’re a coward! You’re passive, as usual! It won’t help you to do that, anyway.”

  “Slue, there is nothing in the world that will make me leave this spot!”

  “Really?” she asked him.

  “Really! Nothing!”

  Slue walked up to him and kissed him on the mouth.

  Within minutes, they were in the Pacer. Bruegel was driving, and they were heading in the direction of the far side of the Moon.

  Clearly, Slue was now in charge of the expedition. She told Bruegel to drive directly toward a pair of high, craggy mountains on the horizon. Bruegel was beside himself with embarrassment over the discovery that he did not really have a driver’s license, and so his usual cocky and anarchistic exterior was replaced by this new and rarely seen side—that of a boy so shy he could hardly speak, and yet, for the first time in his life, emboldened with a newfound sense of focus.

  Hieronymus kept wondering to himself, how long did we kiss? She kissed me…and she did it…as if it were the most logical thing to do…

  Those police officers could be dying.

  Don’t worry, they’re not.

  How do you know? Not only did you look at them, you took their faces in your hands and you forced them to look at you again! What did you say to them?

  I told them what I knew they were about to do.

  What are you talking about?

  You know full well, Hieronymus. As soon as I looked at those two offficers, I knew, judging by their trail of projected color, that they would lay on the ground for a while, then they would get up, they would walk to their vehicle, they would sit and wait till they felt normal again, they would forget all about meeting us here, then they would drive back to where they came from.

  Why are you telling Bruegel to drive to the far side of the Moon?

  Because when I looked at the Pacer, I saw and thus I knew that the three of us would climb back inside. I saw the direction the Pacer would go. Its color projection traveled exactly to where those two mountains are.

  You knew that we were going to go there?

  Yes.

  Did you know that you were going to kiss me?

  Yes. But…

  But what?

  I don’t think I needed to take my goggles off to know that.

  Bruegel was driving incredibly fast, but the mountains ahead of them appeared only slightly bigger. Slue took out the handheld object she had taken from the police car.

  “What are you holding?” Hieronymus asked her.

  “It’s a Police Omni-Tracker.”

  “What the Pixie is that?”

  “It’s a portable navigation device—but a very special one. Only the police are allowed to use these. In theory, it is supposed to keep track of every person on the surface of the Moon.”
>
  Slue pressed a button, and a fat translucent projected map-like image bounced into the air in front of her. A flashing red dot appeared upon what could only have been a representation of the countryside. The dot moved swiftly. Slue pointed to it.

  “This is us,” she said. “This blue dot indicates the position of the Omni-Tracker.”

  “At least we know where we are,” said Hieronymus. “So not only have you showed your eyes to a pair of police officers, which is the same as assault, in case you forgot—but you have also stolen state property.”

  “The police won’t notice right away that this is missing, but when they do, they will think they left it along with their guns at the station.”

  “How are you so certain of this?”

  The mountains loomed larger in the distance. The Pacer was moving with a greater fuidity than ever before. What Bruegel was unaware of was that in making his repairs, he unintentionally fushed away a blockage in the fuel-feeder that had been hampering the vehicle’s performance for years.

  Slue looked at Hieronymus.

  “I am certain because…there is another reason the authorities are so fearful of the fourth primary color. It is not just that a person becomes disoriented. The mind becomes so unhinged while viewing this color that memories can be taken away and false memories can be inserted…”

  “You mean, as in hypnotized?”

  “No,” Slue replied, a sad expression on her face. “Much deeper than that. When a normal person sees the fourth primary color, as you know, their mind becomes deeply confused. It has to reboot itself. A human being becomes like putty during those moments. They can be told anything, and for them, it becomes the truth. By now, those police officers are emerging from their confused state. And they will both be convinced of the exact same thing. That the exhaust of their cruiser made them pass out. That I was an optical illusion when I waved my poncho at them. That they never met us. And all this because I told them so.”