by Matt Snee
“Deals change, Ms. Pichon,” complained the Shadow Puppet. “Earth is the priority here, is it not?”
“Yes, it is,” said Douglas Daniel. “No one is debating that. Jennifer just believes the Shards should stay with her.” He stroked his chin. “She's the one that understands them.”
“We could be made to understand them too,” the Shadow Puppet pressed. “You know, I knew your father, Ms. Pichon. I was aware of him long before he escaped Earth. You're very much like him; a lot of bluster, but no real power.”
“You made a deal not to get involved.” Tess spoke sternly. “You promised to accept the trade agreement.”
“And we will,” said the Shadow Puppet. “But this—was never negotiated. This was never spoken of.”
“I won't let you get your clutches on the Triborg,” Jennifer hissed. She almost stood up, but the Captain grabbed her arm.
“We're not negotiating,” he confirmed softly.
“We can assist you on your journey.” The Shadow Puppet tried a different avenue. “We are very powerful. Our mechanites are very strong.” It was the third time he had suggested bringing his soldiers on board the Phantom Ray.
“No.” Tess was final.
“Then—can't I alone not come with you, to aid your success?”
The table was silent. This was a new idea. They had all thought that the Shadow Puppet would leave. The had not contemplated an alliance.
“I…” Tess wasn't sure what to say. She turned to Jennifer.
Jennifer wrenched her lips together. “Absolutely no way.”
“I really think you should consider my offer,” the Shadow Puppet's head dipped, looking for sympathy. “Surely a voice from Earth should be present.”
“Not your voice.” The Captain surprised himself by speaking loudly and forcefully. “I don't care what you are. You're not coming with us.”
The Shadow Puppet blinked its eyes and shrugged. It stood and stalked across the dining room.
“I could seize this ship in moments!” It lifted its fist. “But I won't.” The Puppet lowered its hands to its sides. “Earth will not be ignored. We will follow. You think the Shadows have limits. We don't.”
The Shadow Puppet stormed out of the ship. Douglas Daniel stood and went after it.
The four companions sat around the table and picked over everything the Shadow Puppet had said, trying to imagine Earth's next move. “What will they do? Will they interfere?” Captain asks.
“We can't worry about them now,” Jennifer said. “We do share the same enemy: The No-Shape. And sometimes the enemy of my enemy, is my friend.”
The Captain nodded in agreement. “I don't want to make any more deals with them.”
“It was the right thing to do,” said Tess. “We won.”
“For now,” interrupted Plerrxx. “But for how long? They are our enemy, and without Jon Jason around, they will get stronger. They are as much a danger as the Dunleavys, if not more so.”
“I hate them too,” the Captain explained, “but we have to move on. We did what we had to.”
“Saturn is our next problem.” Jennifer finished. “We need the second Shard. That is all that matters.”
“If the Shadows or Jon Jason get in the way, I'll blast them,” said Tess, half-joking.
* * *
That evening the Captain found Jennifer down in the cargo hold, where they kept the Shard for safety. She was sitting on the ground near it, looking at it quizzically.
Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Out of her dream suit, dressed in blue jeans and a white blouse—she looked astounding. The Captain caught his breath as he looked in awe of Jennifer.
“Uh—hello,” he said breaking her reverie.
She turned and smiled. “Hi. What are you doing down here?” she asked.
“Looking for you,” he said.
“Oh—well, you found me. I've just been thinking.”
“About what?”
“About everything. The Shard. The Triborg. The No-Shape. The past. I'm thinking about Jon Jason, too.”
“Yeah?” The Captain found himself becoming jealous of Jon Jason.
Jennifer tried to smile in reply. “Mostly I'm thinking about my parents. Everything is just so haywire.”
“I know,” the Captain empathized.
“It just never seemed like it would add up to something like this. Who am I now? Am I still her, Jenn, precocious daughter, mischievous child? Did I change? I can feel myself back there, in the past, and it doesn't seem me. I can kind of look into my modern perception and get a whole new… chill up my spine.” She smiled again, this time more successfully.
“I miss my mom,” the Captain said, honestly. “It's hard for me to imagine life without her.”
“You have me,” Jennifer said, without irony. “I'll be with you the whole way.”
“Now there are four of us,” the Captain said. “We have a responsibility beyond ourselves.”
“They have their own paths,” Jennifer suggested.
“I know, I just—I care about all of you.” The Captain had to express himself as best he could. “And this is dangerous.”
“There's no guarantees for anyone anywhere,” Jennifer said. “We're at risk the moment we're in the womb. Death is inevitable, unavoidable. It's….” She stopped. Try to be positive, she thought to herself. Especially around him.
“Nothing is written,” the Captain argued. “It's all happening now and forever. Nothing is certain.”
“There are things that are certain,” she replied. “I've touched them myself.”
He wasn't sure what she was speaking of. “I mean to say—the only certainty is us.”
She nodded. “I know.”
About the Authors
Matthew Snee was born in Nebraska, raised in Delaware, and now lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with his three dogs. Formerly of the Brooklyn-based art-pop band Mixel Pixel, he now lives out his days trying to break the universe with literary pulp fiction.
http://www.matthewsnee.com
Gregg Chirlin grew up in Delaware, studied in San Francisco, and currently resides in central France with his wife and two children. In addition to odd jobs ranging from pizza delivery boy to dental insurance clerk and concert candy-hawker, he briefly labored as a web developer in Silicon Valley just before the bubble burst, and has been mainly teaching English as a foreign language since. He enjoys cooking, wine, and the French countryside.
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