by Ray, Joseph
The seven men looked to one another, uncertain of what was to come. Nathan tried to look away, but his eyes were locked in horror as he noted a thin stream of blood running down the nearest prisoner’s mouth. One by one, each of the condemned shared the same symptom. The streams of blood ran from their noses at first, then their ears. Two of the six screamed in pain as their eyes began to bleed, dropping to their knees and throwing their hands against their skulls. Nathan managed to close his eyes.
*************
The dock offered a variety of boats from which to choose. The beams of each appeared to be a metallic alloy though Bearden knew them to be a composite resin. Each board had a grain pattern to it, giving the appearance of wood though silver and gray in color. The boats were a marvel of technology, perfectly streamed lines and contours round out each vessel, some as tall as the Divinity Tower, leaving the Sargent to ponder how such a ship could stay afloat.
The larger boats were lined with windows, their framework barely visible as the transitional plastic still remained dark, even in the setting sun. Lights began to turn on throughout the scene, offering a soft glow upon the surface of the clear water.
People strolled in rows as far as the makeshift couple could see. The archway of the city wall opened to a gently sloping hill, and a path that led down to the docks, with several storefronts on either side. Silver poles lined the walkway, each casting an amber glow through tinted plastic. Janys’ hand clenched onto Rolland’s wrist as they strolled down the gentle hill.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, her eyes aglow in the amber light. “No wonder they draw so many tourists.”
Bearden wanted to add to her remark, but he was focused on not hitting the back of her butt with the luggage swinging from his right hand. They stopped at several of the stores, attempting to determine which sold tickets to the boats. At this point, they’d rather lose the last of their money than risk being caught sneaking onto a ship.
“You fine young folks needing a ride?” a dark-skinned man with a large beard asked from a kiosk in front of the last storefront.
Janys looked to the Sargent, their eyes locking for a moment as they held a silent discussion. The smile on her thin lips was all the encouragement Bearden needed to ignore his doubts.
“Yeah,” he started, setting the luggage in front of his feet. “Though we’re a little short on metal right now, so go easy on us.”
The man laughed, the white in his hair and beard glowing in the amber lights as his head moved up and down. He wore a straw hat, far too small for his head, with a blue button-up shirt that was covered in little orange trees. They couldn’t see through the wooden divider to see if the man was wearing any shoes.
“I understand just fine,” the man sang. “Besides, you two are newlyweds, right? Can’t let the man take all your creds in one swoop. Gotta leave some aside to spoil the lovely lady.”
Janys smiled, her embarrassment obvious, even in the dim lighting. Bearden tried not to frown, knowing a good salesman when he saw one. Still, it was difficult to argue with the man in the straw hat.
“Now, I won’t try to sway you to those big ass ships over there that look like they should be in space, rather than on the ocean,” he started, his white teeth gleaming. “You want something smaller, a little more romantic. I just need to know where you’re heading?”
“The spaceport,” Bearden remarked without hesitation.
“Yeah, the spaceport,” Janys piled on. “My Dad got us tickets for some nebula cruise, but we have to get there first.”
“Oh, then you just want quick transport, none of this lazy water stuff. I got just the thing. If you’re quick, you can catch the boat. Leaves in about ten minutes.”
“How much?” Bearden asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket, feeling far too few bars.
“Twenty bars,” the man replied.
“Twenty?” Janys cried out.
“Oh, you misunderstand,” he continued. “It’s a day’s trip to the Spaceport. That includes your room and your meals. However, five extra will get you some beef tonight. Can’t help but notice you two looking very famished.”
Bearden gladly dropped the bars on the table, leaving an extra ten on the counter.
“John and Jane Smith,” Bearden informed him, leaning in close. “And no I.D. check.”
The man nodded, punching at the panel that was framed inside the counter. Two long tickets slid out from the slot, which the man tore off and handed to the Sargent.
“There you go Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” he said with a beaming smile. “And best of luck to you both. It’s the third dock, that little blue ship next to the first big one.”
Bearden turned, eyeing the target. He guessed they had seven minutes and a long ways to walk before they reached the forty-foot tall sea vessel.
“We’ll never make it,” Janys cried, trying a little too hard to sound upset.
“Don’t you go worrying you’re pretty red-head,” the man told her. “That ticket just transferred to the ship, so the Captain knows to wait.”
Janys leaned over the counter and quickly pecked the man’s cheek. The man nodded, watching the couple disappear amongst the crowd.
“Geez, at least, I only LOOKED at other women,” Bearden muttered, shifting the weight of the luggage.
Janys smacked his shoulder as they walked down the hill, careful to swing out to the right of a still crowd, placing the group between themselves and the port authority. The two dark men wore white, short-sleeved dress shirts, with black pants and hats, gazing out into the crowds with rifles sweeping the ground. Both men were horribly underweight, their skin pulled taunt against their bones, gazing disapprovingly at people who talked a little too loudly.
“Shit!” Janys hissed.
She darted in front of the Sargent, grabbed his hair exposed under his hat, and drew him in close. Before he could protest, her lips were locked onto his. His eyes peeked out the corner, catching sight of the driver they’d stolen the vehicle from earlier. He was led up the hill by three men, all wearing suits that were all too familiar to him. He kept his gaze on the group, though his lips released, finding hers once more. The Corporal’s lips were thin but wide and strong, hungrily grasping onto his as they avoided the gaze of the patrol. Her hand pushed up against the back of his hat, tilting the brim over his face as they embraced.
Unable to see the crowd, Rolland closed his eyes, attempting to enjoy the artificial kiss. Her fingers dug into the back of his hair as she pressed against him, leading him to wrap his arms around her tiny waist and draw her in. He counted to ten, then pulled away.
“I think they’re gone,” he whispered, a smile locked on his face.
“Who’s gone?” she asked, trying to look around as if she hadn’t a clue.
He looked up the hill, catching the back of the Divinity employees as they passed under the archway. He picked up the cases, his eyes still looking towards the area they’d recently passed. One of the two port authorities caught his stare, the whites of his eyes boring down from the top of the hill. Bearden smiled, then turned and hurried his fake bride to their fake honeymoon.
The remainder of the walk went unnoticed as the duo reached the dock, almost skipping across the resin planks. They were greeted by an unhappy Captain, wearing the style of old shipmen, topped off with a blue hat with the yellow anchor on the front. Even with the thick beard, the man’s frown was obvious.
“Bout time,” he muttered, standing to the side to allow the couple to pass.
The Sargent handed him their tickets before his companion grabbed his hand and drug him onto the platform. Their shoes found the ship, thankful to be onto the sea. A short woman, dressed in a white uniform smiled at them, rattled off the schedule, and told them how to get to their quarters.
The Sargent ducked under the doorway, following Janys through the narrow hallways. Twice they had to press flat against the wall to allow others to pass in the opposite direction. After a nearly treacherous journey down
a spiral staircase, the duo reached their quarters.
Janys plunged onto the bed, releasing a faint sigh as the mattress engulfed her aching muscles. Her pale arms wrapped around one of the pillows, which she squeezed tightly and closed her eyes.
Bearden dropped the luggage by the closet, his eyes attempting to measure the available space on the floor. The entire room was only eight feet square, leaving little room for which to maneuver. He stepped through the doorway to the bathroom, hoping to find a full bath. His face locked in a frown as he saw only a standup shower.
He closed the door, stripped off the hideous clothes, and turned on the water by running his finger over the tiny panel inside the stall. The jets came to life, spraying his arm with an ice-cold blast. He stepped back, examining himself in the mirror as he waited for the water to heat up. The cuts on his face were starting to heal though he couldn’t say which cut came from which incident. His shoulder was a mess, turning a mixture of dark blue and green. He scowled, realizing how poor he’d appeared as he attempted to resemble a tourist. No one went on their honeymoon with so many injuries. The mirror steamed over, signaling it was time to get clean.
He made no effort to be quick, knowing that he had another hour before dinner was to be served. He took the tiny bottles from the shelf though reminded himself to leave the majority of the shampoo for Janys. He squeezed out a small circle and scrubbed his red flattop. The water ran brown, with more streaks of red than he cared for. The skin was sensitive, reminding him of his multiple head injuries he’d incurred at the Tower. He opted to use the bar of soap to perform a second and third washing, thankful that the ticket bought them a full bar as long as his palm. He continued to scrub until the water ran clean, then focused upon the rest of his body. His skin protested against the scrubbing, begging to be left alone as he lathered a washcloth and scoured the infected skin from his wounds. The white rag ran red, forcing him to rinse it thoroughly before dropping it into the basket.
He gave up and just stood there, allowing the hot water to sooth his soreness. His eyes closed, begging once more to never be asked to open again. His foot slipped as his head bobbed to forward, gently tapping his forehead against the showerhead. He shook it off and stopped the water. The towels were laughably small, taking two to dry his oversized frame. He started to put his clothes back on, then realized that he was long overdue for a change in underwear. The pants and shirt were new, but the rest was what he’d worn during the attack on the Tower.
He laughed as he tried to wrap a towel around his hip, realizing that it couldn’t reach far enough to tuck inside itself. He picked the second towel back out of the hamper, foolishly attempting to form the two pieces of cloth together. The sides kept coming untucked, forcing him to use both hands. The doorknob was a problem, leading him to test how quickly his hand could hit the lever, then return to his towel.
The door swung open as he darted out, making straight to his luggage. He frowned as he realized he’d have to let go in order to grab the handle of the bag, leaving him exposed to the unruly skirt he’d fashioned. His eyes shot up, noting that Janys was still hugging the pillow, her eyes locked shut. He let out a breath, then dropped his hands to grasp the handle to the bag. As he’d expected, the towel fell open, exposing his manhood to the room. He ignored it, hoping that the Corporal was sleeping, leaving him free to retrieve the clothing he desperately wished was on his body at the moment. He’d no such luck.
“Wow, it’s true what they say,” Janys remarked, an evil grin forming on her thin lips. “Big guy and a big……..”
He caught her gaze, realizing that she wasn’t looking at his nose. Something inside him gave up as he let both hands go, grabbed the bag, and held it over his lower body.
“Show’s over,” he muttered.
“Nah, you still have to turn around.”
His face grew red as he whirled around and stormed back into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut, but not before she managed to let out a whistle. He looked at himself in the mirror, noting the dark red circles on his cheeks and forehead. He couldn’t help but laugh.
Thirty minutes later, the pair was seated at a table on the deck of the ship. The table was a black frame, bolted to the deck, with a quick release to allow for clearing it away when needed. It was covered with a white tablecloth, along with several thick, white plates, silverware wrapped in a silk cloth, and several empty glasses.
Unable to contain her hunger, Janys snatched one of the rolls from the basket. She nearly tipped over the fake candlestick upon her return, then realized it was fastened onto the table magnetically. The dim light shined off her face, catching Bearden’s focus as the sea gently rocked them. The same white uniformed woman from before came to their table, bringing them both beers in silver cups.
“Dinner will be ready in a moment,” she informed them before moving to the next table.
Janys looked around the deck, noting there were six couples, but seven tables. The variety was abundant, the couples ranging from young to old, white to black, and from varying degrees of wealth.
“I like the dress,” Bearden stumbled, trying to sound flattering.
True to his word, the Sargent DID like the dress. It was a wrap, similar to the flowered dress from earlier, but pure black in color. The fabric mimicked silk, shining off the moonlight that poured from the horizon. Despite his best intentions, he couldn’t help but notice how thin the material was, or how low it hung on her upper body. Her pale skin glowed in the dim light, forcing him to look into his cup as he drank.
“Wow, date much?” she laughed, leaning into the table.
He nearly dropped the glass and spit, his throat overfilling with liquid as he nearly laughed mid-sip. The cup smacked against the metal table, leading every head to turn his way. The Sargent hung his head, turning red once more.
“Yeah, social graces are a little lost on me,” he whispered, pleading for everyone to look away.
“Hey, look at me,” she replied.
Bearden dared a glance, her pale blue eyes locked upon him as the moon broke free from the clouds behind her. A tear trickled from her eye, shoving the embarrassment from the Sargent’s face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I can’t stand you feeling ashamed,” she whispered, trying not to choke on her closing throat. She took a quick sip, pleading for the food to come quickly. As no plate as placed before her, she had little choice but to explain her words. She returned her gaze, finding the strength to speak her mind.
“You take the gun and uniform away and you act like you’re worthless next to these people,” she sighed. “You’re not. These people are NOTHING compared to you. Just think of these last two days. How many people tried to kill you? Hell, how many Cybers tried and failed? You never gave away your confidence then, so don’t give in to these civs now.”
She took a sip, her eyes growing wide as she saw the food trays coming around.
“Besides, you’re up five to three,” she whispered quickly.
“Five to three?” he asked, his cup nearly touching his lips. “What the…..”
“Dinner’s ready,” the white uniformed lady sang.
Bearden paused the thought, waiting for the woman to place to silver covered dishes on the small table. She uncovered both, offered a quick nod, and tried to hurry away.
“Wait,” Bearden snapped, looking down in displeasure. “We should both have steak.”
The woman looked down at the plates, shame filling her face as she saw one plate with steak, the second with some white meat that they assumed to be chicken. The woman sighed, and shoved her hands behind her back.
“I’m sorry,” she replied. “We didn’t have enough to go around.”
“We’ll make due,” Janys offered. “Thank you.”
The woman nodded and scurried away, leaving the couple alone with their meals. Janys looked down, offered a weak smile, and switched the plates. She placed the steak in front of Bearden and settled the chicken in f
ront of her.
“Ya think?” Rolland snapped, snatching her utensils from her hands.
“Uhm, yeah, I THINK,” she replied. “You’re injured, which means you need protein to rebuild your muscles. Besides, I like chicken.”
Bearden shook his head and drug her plate next to his. With a knife and fork, he cut into both slabs of meat, attempting to create equal halves. He stabbed half a steak and placed it on top of half a chicken, then repeated the process until he had two equal plates. He shoved her plate back across the table and nodded.
“Always a simpler solution,” he sighed.
Janys smiled as the two ate in silence. Both were famished but didn’t wish to appear animal-like in the way they consumed their meals, at least not in front of the other couples and the crew. They happily ate the meal, requesting two more cups of beer each as they told stories about their youth. One by one, the duo outlasted the other couples, quickly left alone on the deck, the moon rising high above the ocean.
“And that’s why you never steal a teacher’s desk,” Bearden said, finishing his story.
“Wow,” she offered, shaking the last sip of her beer around in the bottom of her cup. “I bet he was pissed.”
“Oh yeah. Especially when he came back to the room and saw all his things neatly placed on the floor, just as they were on his missing desktop.”
Janys laughed, falling back into her chair. She was about to offer her own story when a man in a white uniform appeared, quietly waiting for their laughter to die down before speaking.
“I’m terribly sorry,” the man started. “We need to clear the deck for the remainder of the evening. I’ll have to ask you to retire if you please.”
Bearden laughed and quickly stood, stretching his massive frame over the far shorter man. The uniformed man looked up, his jaw dropping an inch as the moonlight disappeared behind the mountain of strength before him. Bearden finished his stretch, then slapped a meaty hand down hard on the man’s shoulder.