One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy

by Stephen Tunney

“Oh, it’s everything to me. How is this for irony? I miss your mother more than you do. I used to know her. She was like an older sister to me. I miss her because I know some things about her life that your father has never told you. For example, have you ever wondered why she wears a raincoat to bed? A raincoat? It never rains on the Moon.”

  “I am going to leave.”

  “You are not going anywhere. Your blue-haired girlfriend has not returned from the law library yet. You have no choice but to listen to your uncle.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Do you know what country on Earth your mother is from?”

  “No.”

  “How can you not know something like that? Your mother is from a country that does not exist any more. It was a country where all it did was rain. Everyone wore raincoats. But, one day, it literally did not stop raining. Puddles turned into lakes, and creeks turned into rivers and the water got higher, and soon the ocean joined in and suddenly there was nowhere to go but to a watery grave. Out of a huge family of seven brothers, only your mother escaped—with her grandmother.”

  “Stop. Please don’t continue…”

  “You knew this already, Hieronymus. You knew that there was a tragedy to your mother that was deeper than your own dark shadow, and it follows you everywhere. It has literally cut you in half. One part of you is a conformist just like your father, and the other part of you is still in exile, just like your mother. Oh, you might have this whole business with the lunarcroptic ocular whatever-the-hell-they-call-it, but that is not really your problem. Your biggest problem is you have never spoken a single word to your mother, and you know that there is nothing you want more.”

  “I think you’ve said enough for tonight, Reno.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. You’ve spoken much too much tonight…”

  “How sad that you can say that to your uncle, but not to your own mother…”

  “My mother is mad. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “A pity your father never took care of her, then.”

  “Maybe there was nothing he could have done about it.”

  “Ah, the passive approach. You look so much like your da when you

  speak like that. Whatever happens, happens. Going with the flow. Poor Barbie. I always thought she was way too good for my idiotic, passive brother. Loser brother. And you know he’s a loser. You know it.”

  “Yeah, well, my loser father is in jail right now. He was covering for me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You’re not fazed in any way that your brother is in jail at this moment?”

  “No more than you, boy-o. You hate his guts more than I do. If you were concerned about your da, you would have told me a long time ago. Instead, you went dancing with that wacky girl over there.”

  Reno pointed out Clellen.

  “She really is something, that one. I’ll bet she has her own outstanding tragedies. Just like that guy she’s dancing with, but he doesn’t know it yet. Or your other friend over there who looks like he’s going to have to decide which one of those women he’s going to end up with tonight. He has tragedy written all over him. I have my own tragedy which is a mother lode all by itself. So does your father. My friend Matilda. Everyone in this room. This whole round rock is a tragic place. But you. You’ve got the Magic Mountain of tragedy and you have to figure out what the Hell you’re going to do about it before it turns into a volcano and takes your head right of.”

  Hieronymus walked away from his uncle. He navigated through the couples on the dance floor. He walked right past Clellen and Pete. Clellen’s eyes followed him, as did Pete’s chin. They watched the solitary, shadow-like boy.

  He found another couch. He sat down on it.

  He opened up his mother’s novel. He read the first two pages. Then he closed it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

  He leaned forward. He buried his face in his hands.

  His slid his fingers under the goggles to rub his sad, watery eyes.

  chapter seventeen

  Then it happened very quickly. Slue finally returned, followed by Matilda, who went to the couch where the nearly-passed-out Uncle Reno lay sprawled, his eyes half closed. Slue went right up to Hieronymus, and she was smiling.

  She sat right next to him and she kissed him on the mouth.

  At that moment, the lights went on. Extremely bright lights.

  Their lips parted, and entering the room, much to the chagrin of every person there, was Lieutenant Dogumanhed Schmet. Hieronymus immediately recognized him from the incident in the classroom two years earlier. Oh, man, not this guy again. What happened, did someone complain about the noise? Then he realized that this was the same officer who called his father, a real LOS-hater and certainly not the kind of police officer who simply went around breaking up parties.

  He had ten other officers with him, maybe more, and they circled the crowd on the dance floor. The policemen all wore the characteristic top hats and capes, and they did not appear to carry any weapons. They all appeared to be a bit bored and tired, unlike Lieutenant Schmet, whose waxen, sweaty face was ecstatic.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please do not be alarmed. My name is Lieutenant Dogumanhed Schmet of the Sea of Tranquility Police Department, Ocular Investigative Division. We do not mean to interrupt your wonderful party—you can return to your utterly wasteful distractions and pathetic little debaucheries as soon as I have apprehended the highly dangerous fugitive who is in your midst, hiding out among you now.”

  Slue got up and walked directly to Clellen. She put her arm around her and whispered very intently. Clellen returned a rather confused and frightened expression. Slue took a tiny object out of her pocket—a gray, finger-sized rectangular thing with a flashing red light on it—and passed it to the perplexed girl, who nodded with a sincerity seen only on young children who have been given an important assignment they must not fail.

  “…the fugitive I am seeking,” the detective continued, "wears those goggles that are common to a certain group of incompatible lunar citizens. This one has with him several accomplices, one of whom is a female goggle-wearer with blue hair, and a boy who drives a Prokong-90.”

  Listen, Clellen, I have something that I have to give to you right now. These men are here to arrest Hieronymus, and I am pretty sure they are going to arrest me, too. If that happens, you have to take this media transference chip directly to the Lunar Federal Court in the District of Copernicus. It’s really important. It is the big white building that is shaped like a snail’s shell. You know it? Its one of the most famous buildings on the Moon. You have to find someone there named Raskar Memling. He’s my older brother. He works there, and you have to find him and give this to him. It has to be done in person. When I disappear, everyone will be worried about what happened. You must tell my brother everything. He has a friend who is a constitutional judge. This data cube I am giving you has all the proof we need that people like me and Hieronymous are being tossed into jail without trial, and it’s being done illegally. There is a secret illegal arrangement between some people in the government and transportation corporations. I can’t go into it right now, but when it breaks, it’s going to be huge. Just take this, and give it to my brother. It’s up to you, Clellen. They’re going to arrest me, and probably question anyone I spoke to. But they won’t take you. All you did was dance. And because of that, you’re safe. You get the last word. Just remember what I told you. My brother. Tell him everything. Concentrate. This might be the most important thing you ever do, Clellen. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but it has been wonderful to have you as a friend. And I know that I can depend on you.

  Lieutenant Schmet continued with the unpleasant address to the crowd.

  “So as soon as we have the following in custody, the rest of you can continue with your foolish party. When I call your name, please step forward. Hieronymus Rexaphin. Slue Memling. Peter Cranach. Reno Rexaphin. Matilda Weyden…”


  Hieronymus and Slue walked up to Detective Schmet.

  Hieronymus spoke directly to the officer. ”Look. You got me. Here I am. Just take me. Why are you arresting the others?”

  But instead of answering, he just bellowed out the charges as if they were in a courtroom and he was already the judge, jury, and executioner.

  “Hieronymus Rexaphin, you are being arrested and charged with the crime of Ocular Assault, by showing your uncovered eyes to an unsuspecting tourist from Earth. Slue Memling, you are being arrested and charged with possession of a stolen police Omni-Tracker and then subsequently and maliciously placing said Omni-Tracker into a highly dangerous environment, where no less than eight officers were severely injured while trying to retrieve it. Peter Cranach, you are being arrested and charged with the crime of transporting known criminals into forbidden areas of the Lunar Far Side, in particular, Joytown 8, a known magnet for gangs and drug smuggling operations.”

  Pete was beside himself with disbelief. He shouted at the lieutenant.

  “What are you, crazy? We’ve done nothing wrong!!”

  “Insulting a police officer can be interpreted as assault, depending on the discretion of the officer. You have just insulted me. You have hurt my feelings. I charge you with assault, young man.”

  Pete rushed at him in a tantrum of fury, but Schmet was fast, and with a tiny flick of his own wrist, the big tellball player was on the floor, writhing in agony with a broken arm. ”Your loyalty to your friends is admirable, but your stupidity is not,” the detective said before continuing on with his announcement.

  “Reno Rexaphin, you are being arrested and charged with the crime of aiding and abetting these known criminals. Matilda Weyden, while you are not technically under arrest, you are hereby required to come with us for questioning.”

  Then the detective began pointing out several random people in the crowd.

  “You. You. And you. We are taking you in for questioning. Anyone who by any chance allowed these terrorists to have access to this library’s research terminals must come with us.”

  There was a great murmur in the crowd, as most of the people thought the demands of this lieutenant were a bit outlandish. Then one officer brought forward Clellen and Bruegel.

  “Lieutenant,” he said. ”What about these two? They’re teenagers— they must be friends of the accused.”

  Schmet looked at them and laughed—he recognized Clellen and Bruegel from that day he was called to that miserable school where Hieronymus killed that boy with his eyesight. Total lowlifes. Losers. Failures.

  “No, let them go. They’re too dumb to know anything. They’re just a couple of stupid Loopies. That’s what they call them at their school. Loopies. Everyone calls them Loopies. That girl is an insane filthy slut and that boy is just mental.”

  Normally, Clellen would have shouted a wall of insults at the detective, but she just stood there staring at his strange, doll-like face. She felt completely different from that moment on, as if the old Clellen had been left behind somewhere. In one second, she was transformed. She listened to his every word, her eyes on his. She clutched the data cube in her hand with a steely determination to quietly stare him down. Indeed, she knew she would have the last word.

  Bruegel, on the contrary, could not resist. The entire time the detective was speaking, the big fellow just looked at him with an amused expression, his head slightly cocked to one side, his open mouth chewing potato chips from an open bag he held in one of his hands. ”Excuse me, Detective, but I was wondering about something. You have the most bizarre complexion on your face—you look like a plastic action figure that was coated in wax! If someone were to slice your entire head in half with a machete, I am sure that it would be the same unpleasant material

  all the way through—”

  “On second thought,” Schmet interrupted, "take the big oafish one in for questioning as well.”

  And then he turned to Clellen one more time.

  “Looks like you’re all alone now. All your friends are arrested. Now just how do you intend to get back to the other side of the Moon? Maybe you’ll just slut your way back?”

  A couple of the other officers laughed at his crude remark, but Clellen only stared straight ahead.

  Hieronymus and Slue were handcuffed and placed into the back of the same vehicle as Lieutenant Schmet and Belwin, the rescue robot, who was instructed to drive. The others were transported in separate police cruisers, and Pete was taken away to a prison hospital because of his broken arm.

  Most of the journey back to the near side of the Moon was uneventful. All Hieronymus could do was watch the landscape change as they returned to the more familiar sights of remote cities covered in neon lights, crowded highways, and a sky perpetually red.

  Clouds of hummingbirds flew in the distance. Some flew parallel with them. Others, farther away, snaked among distant skyscrapers. Their destinations random. Clouds shaped as far-away, colorless dragons, reigning over the lunar sky.

  Today is the first day of my exile, Hieronymus thought.

  He looked at Slue, and they smiled at each other. Soon, the police would separate them. They would be sent to different prisons. They would be trained as pilots. Then they would be cast of into the far and sad cosmos. Then they would live short and uneventful lives in the deepest loneliness possible.

  “Lieutenant?” Slue asked. “Will we see you at our trial?”

  “Trial?” the waxen-faced man replied with a laugh. “What makes you think you are getting a trial?”

  “It’s the law. We have the right to a fair trial.”

  “You have the right to keep your mouth shut, miss.”

  “If I robbed a bank, would I get a trail?”

  “You? No.”

  “If I was a random guy on the street who did not have lunarcroptic ocular symbolanosis and I robbed a bank, would I then get a trial?”

  “Indeed, you would.”

  “I see. So it is because I can see the fourth primary color that my rights are somehow altered.”

  “Your rights are not altered. You have no rights to begin with. If you can see the fourth primary color, you are no longer classified as a human being, and thus, you have no recourse to use the civil mechanisms of our state.”

  “And where in our civil code is this spelled out?”

  “It is not. Because you are not a human being, in your case, it is irrelevant what the law says.”

  “So it is a question of the state not recognizing us as human beings.”

  “It is clear, in fact, that you and your boyfriend here are not human beings.”

  “If we are such non-citizens then, what gives you the right to arrest us?”

  “I arrest you as I would arrest any public menace. For example, if a diseased dog were running around biting people and spreading rabies, I would have to capture it. Of course, I would not be having the pleasant conversation that we are currently having with such a beast, but still, I think you get the idea.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “Well, I take you back to the station in Aldrin City, I register you, and then you will be transported to a holding chamber where you will await assignment to internment with a private detention facility.”

  “Private? We are not even kept in a state prison?”

  “Oh, no. As you are not a human being, you are turned over to one of several corporations that handle creatures such as yourself.”

  “Show me the part of the law where this is encoded as something legal.”

  “Show me the part of the law where you are encoded as a human being.”

  “It is an outrage the way you speak to us.”

  “Miss Memling, how did you get a police Omni-Tracker?”

  “How did you ever get to become a police officer? You are so clearly unqualified.”

  “Well, I must be good at it. After all, I tracked you two down.”

  “That didn’t take much,” Hieronymus interjected. "We’re just a couple of ki
ds, but you make us out to be dangerous outlaws, which we are not.”

  “In fact, you were an outlaw the moment you were born.”

  “Really? You know, one would think you would have better things to do with your time. The crime rate on the Moon is pretty high these days, but here you are wasting your time with us.”

  “I’m not wasting my time. Because of you, I’ve discovered the existence of a genuine Obscura Camera Projection Techbolsinator.”

  “That thing should be destroyed!” Slue declared.

  “That thing is going to be incredibly useful.”

  “It is a horror! It’s a morbid, morbid horror! How could someone even construct such a thing!” she continued, completely outraged.

  “At one time, there were several of them. They were made during the Regime of Courage. Oops. I’m sorry. So politically incorrect of me. I forgot. You creatures like to call it the Regime of Blindness. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. You see, everyone is so fascinated by the fourth primary color, but nobody knows how to control it. As you may well know, a normal person who sees this color, once they are under the shock of it, and before they can fully recover, become highly susceptible to memory manipulation. That is the real reason people like you are such a menace. And that is why that circular room with its wall made up of thousands of real One Hundred Percent Lunar irises can be such a powerful tool. Anyone who goes in there forgets completely who he is. Before he can recover, you tell him whatever you want, and your suggestion becomes his memory. You can put twenty of the Moon’s greatest scientists in there, and while they are under the shock of that color, you can tell them something as silly as the fat Earth revolves around the Moon, which is made of cheese, and they will come out convinced that this is a solid, indisputable fact.”

  “That is barbaric—”

  “My darling blue-haired girl, it is an unstoppable fact. Why do you think One Hundred Percent Lunar People are sometimes randomly attacked and their eyes stolen? Sometimes there are those who need to see that color, and they will even resort to murder to obtain it. And sometimes, there are those who need to use that eye color on someone else. Just think of the countless possibilities—the ability to tell another person what their own memories are. Why should this fabulous power only be in the hands of the creatures who are born with it? The Regime of Courage set out to make proper use of this phenomenon—by keeping all of you away from the rest of humanity, then taking your eyes away from yourselves to build several rooms exactly like the one you saw in Joytown 8. These rooms were put to excellent use as far as manipulating the memory of politicians, judges, intellectuals, enemies of the state, whomever they felt needed a bit of reprogramming. I have already arranged for that room to be put under strict lock-up under the Ocular Investigative Division. And whoever owns the key to that place has a lot of power. Oh, did I mention that I’m the one with the key?”