by Sarah Noffke
Hatch waddled out from behind the shelf, holding a small object. “I found it.”
“What’s that?” Dejoure asked.
“It’s a…” he began, but thinking better of it, he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s science.”
Dejoure tied her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
Hatch shook his head. “No, you’re a twelve-year-old human who obviously knows everything.”
“Well, you’re the one who wants to run tests on me, so I obviously know more about some things than you do,” she countered.
All Hatch’s tentacles went slack as he looked at her. Then he puffed out his cheeks in irritation. “Kid finds a single clue and thinks she’s Albert Einstein.”
“Albert who?”
“Exactly!” He disappeared behind another set of shelves. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Dejoure’s eyes darted around as she seriously considered going somewhere. There were a billion places to hide on this ship. She thought she could trust Bailey and Lewis, and probably even the hippie engineer and the guy in the suit. However, she wasn’t sure about Hatch; especially because she’d had enough experiments and tests run on her at SB. She didn’t mind being used to help find the crew of Ricky Bobby, but she wasn’t sure about this grumpy Londil who kept regarding her like she was a science project.
“How are you doing, Dejoure?” Pip asked overhead.
She looked up, surprised. “You pronounced my name right.”
“Naturally,” he stated. “I can speak hundreds of languages, and an even wider range of dialects. Your name isn’t tough; it’s only that the others don’t know how to roll their Rs.”
The girl covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed.
“Do you want some advice about dealing with Hatch?”
She nodded, and then, wondering if the AI could see her, she said, “Yes, that would be great.”
“Ask him about his wives,” Pip stated.
“Wives?”
“Oh yes, he has many,” he informed her. “It’s common for Londils, and there’s nothing that Hatch likes better than to talk about his wives. He’ll get all dreamy, so get ready for it.”
“Okay, thanks!” Dejoure said, just as a noise echoed from behind the shelf.
A moment later, Hatch materialized pushing a cart full of equipment.
“Okay, I’m going to hook some sensors up to your head,” he began. Then he paused, a serious look on his face. “Is it okay if I shave off your hair?”
“No!” Dejoure protectively grabbed her black locks.
“Oh, fine.” Hatch waved a dismissive tentacle at her. “I can do it without having close contact to the sensors. Still, I don’t get why you humans have such a deep connection to your hair.”
Still gripping hers, she said, “It individuates us.”
Hatch gave her a sideways look as he extended a tentacle in her direction, which held a sensor attached to a wire. “That’s a big word for an orphan.”
Dejoure froze as the sensor stuck to her forehead. “Orphans still know how to read, you know? I used to read all of Mrs. Hinez’s books; she was the warden at my last orphanage. As soon as she was done with one of her mystery thrillers, she’d hand it off to me. She mostly liked mysteries and romances, but I convinced her to start reading more science fiction.”
Hatch’s tentacle paused right in front of Dejoure’s face, blocking her view of anything, the sucker on the backside seeming to stare back at her. He moved it to the side, giving her a look. “That was smart of you.”
“Thanks. I also like plays,” she admitted, talking faster now. She could feel the sensor sticking to her head. “And I’ve read some poetry that’s nice.”
“I think I’ve heard enough,” Hatch said, shaking his head. “You should have stopped at science fiction.”
“Oh…sorry.”
“I’ve only got to attach a few more sensors, and then I’ll need you to focus on finding something I’ve lost.”
“What are you trying to do? Why aren’t you having me look for the Commander?” Dejoure asked.
“Because the last five attempts haven’t worked,” he explained, sticking more sensors to her head. “There’s something blocking you. My job is to determine how your skill works; then I can enhance it.”
“Enhance?” she asked, nearly stuttering.
“Don’t worry, kid. I won’t hurt you.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes as a few more sensors were stuck to her head. “So tell me about your wives.”
After a moment, Dejoure realized she didn’t feel anything else being placed on her. She opened her eyes to find Hatch staring at her narrowly.
“Pip!” he finally bellowed. “Did you tell her to ask me about those blood-suckers?”
Silence.
“I-I’m sorry,” Dejoure stammered “I didn’t know it was a sore subject. I was only—”
Hatch shook his head. “You were set up by the evil AI.”
“Oh, well, I won’t ask you about your wives again.”
Hatch’s cheeks filled with air and indignation. “I don’t have any wives. Not anymore. None of them liked that work came before them. They enjoy their comfortable lives, not caring if a hole gets shot through the galaxy and it swallows us all up.”
Dejoure swallowed, not knowing how to respond.
Hatch waddled closer, shaking his head. “Dammit, Pip! I’ll give you a body, then have your head for this.”
The girl couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s sort of mischievous, isn’t he?”
Hatch turned on the equipment on the cart, nodding. “Yes, Pip is unlike any other. And that’s another good word.”
“Thanks,” Dejoure chirped. “I like words.”
“They have power, you know?” he commented, flipping several switches.
“That’s what Mrs. Reece used to say; she was the caretaker at my second foster home. She wouldn’t allow me to say the bad ones.”
Hatch nodded approvingly. “Good for her. The crew of this ship all speak like they’re sailors.” He looked around, a cold, haunting look on his face. “Well, they used to…when they were here to speak.”
“Well, aren’t they sailors…in a way?” Dejoure challenged.
“Maybe. Sort of. We fly on a battlecruiser, but we don’t have to talk like we’re uneducated.”
“But what if using bad words in the right way makes you smarter?”
Hatch regarded her for a long moment before shaking his head. “That’s a notion to consider another time. Right now, I want you to focus on finding my trifield meter. I misplaced it.”
Dejoure closed her eyes, focusing the way she did when looking for a lost object. In her mind, she saw a desk drawer begin to glow. The compartment was on the other side of Hatch’s lab.
She opened her eyes and pointed. “It’s over there.”
Hatch regarded the monitor and sighed. “No reading. Let’s try again.”
“What do you mean, ‘no reading’?”
“Exactly what I said,” he grumbled. “There’s no unusual brain activity, which means that the sensors aren’t placed right, or I need a more invasive way of measuring.”
Dejoure gasped, pressing her hands to her head.
Hatch shook his head. “Come on. I need you to focus. Can you find my stunning grenades?”
Again, she closed her eyes. A moment later, she saw a visual of a box sitting under the rubble that Hatch had thrown from the shelf.
“It’s over there,” she said, indicating the mess in the corner.
The mechanic watched the screen, a look of disappointment taking over his features. “Yeah, this doesn’t seem to be working.”
“Maybe we should try finding something farther away,” Dejoure suggested.
Hatch considered this for a moment and then nodded. “Fine. Help me find my apprentice, Knox Gunnerson.”
Dejoure closed her eyes, thinking she’d get a vision.
&
nbsp; Blackness remained behind her closed eyelids.
She opened her eyes, disappointment filling her stomach. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where he is.”
Hatch shook his head. “I figured it was a long shot. Well, I don’t know what to do. I can’t get any information on how your skill works.”
Desperate to be of help to the crew, Dejoure pressed on the sensors attached to her head, trying to make their connection firmer. “Let’s try again. Maybe we can get a reading.”
The Londil tugged at one of the wires, pulling a sensor off her head with a popping noise. “No, this is no use. Maybe you should go take a nap, kid.”
She narrowed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks. “I’m not a baby that needs naps.”
Hatch didn’t scold her angrily, like she expected. Instead he laughed, a full, heavy chuckle. “I meant that you should try to nap because your dreams are premonitions.” He spun around and waddled away, pushing the cart. When he was back at the shelf, he turned to face her again, still laughing. “Nice jab though. That was a first. You’ve got spunk, kid. I’ll give you that.”
Chapter Six
Loading Bay, Ricky Bobby, Cacama System
Sebastian the ferret scampered across the top of the Q-ship, looking down at Liesel and Hatch standing on the deck. Bailey stood nearby, watching the engineers with mild curiosity.
“Did we repair all of the body damage?” Liesel asked the ferret.
The animal nodded before crawling down the side of the ship.
Liesel looked at Hatch with a wide smile on her bright face. “Looks like the ship is ready to go.”
The mechanic shook his head, with slight annoyance in his round eyes. “That creature can’t really understand you.”
She unclipped one of the jumper cables from her baggy overalls, and used the clamp to pin her hair back. “I assure you he can. We have a connection.”
“You have a screw loose, is what you have,” he grumbled.
The ferret arrived at Liesel’s feet and rose onto its back legs.
She withdrew a treat from her pocket and knelt down, offering it to Sebastian. “I’ve got another one of these for you if you’ll check to see if I left my notebook on the Q-ship while I was doing repairs.”
Sebastian ate the treat, and took off, running up the open hatch door and disappearing into the ship.
“You mean that book that you waste your time coloring in when there’s other, more important concerns?” Hatch’s tentacle stretched over to a nearby workstation to retrieve a small case.
Liesel laughed. “It’s a book of mandalas, which are a mystical guidance tool used for creating a sacred space.”
One of Hatch’s tentacles reached out and picked up a wrench strewn on the deck. “This is a tool. And we have navigational systems for guidance; though it’s a lost cause. I’ve been all over several galaxies, and there is no sacred space. Only endless blackness with mysteries to be solved.”
Lewis strode up and paused next to Bailey, amused at the two mechanics’ exchange.
Liesel reached out like she was going to fondly pat Hatch, but reading the warning look on his face, she retracted her hand. “I think underneath all that cynicism is a soul yearning for transcendentalism.”
“Which proves you shouldn’t be allowed to think.” Hatch dropped the wrench he’d grabbed onto a workstation. “Have you repaired the backup servers that the monster destroyed?”
“Actually,” Lewis interjected, “I think it was the heat that destroyed the servers, not the monster.”
Hatch looked at the detective with a sour expression. “How do you get anything done when you’re constantly obsessing over semantics?”
“I’m good at multitasking,” Lewis said with a wink.
“I really think we should come up with a different name for the creature,” Liesel proposed. “Something that doesn’t have such a negative connotation.”
Hatch looked up to the ceiling. “Kill me now.”
Bailey strode forward, unable to stay out of the conversation any longer. “Well, it was made by Monstre Corp, so it makes sense to call it a monster.”
“Finally, someone who uses logic,” Hatch stated.
“Speaking of the monster,” Ricky Bobby chimed in, getting everyone’s immediate attention. “I’ve been tracking its path.”
“Haven’t we been following that same path?” Bailey asked.
“Yes, and it appears that the monster has been going in a giant circle,” Ricky Bobby observed.
Bailey’s brow furrowed. “Why would it do that?”
“Maybe it’s on a temporary mobility,” Liesel offered.
Hatch’s eyes closed for a half beat as he sighed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Temporary mobility is the politically correct term for walkabout,” Ricky Bobby said. “Liesel is inferring that the monster is living a nomadic lifestyle.”
“Why in the world would it do that?” Hatch asked.
“Many times, when we don’t know where we are going, it is helpful to go back to where we came from,” Liesel mused.
“Hence a circle,” Bailey guessed, eyeing the calculating expression on Lewis’s face.
“The monster isn’t experiencing a spiritual rite of passage.” Hatch’s voice rose, a product of his irritation. “But if you’d like to take a trip to visit it, you two can color man-whatevers together while you braid each other’s hair.”
Not missing a beat, Liesel said, “I don’t think the creature has any hair.”
“What’s that look for, Harlowe?” Bailey asked, watching the detective.
“The monster is self-aware,” Lewis stated. “But not like you all are thinking. It’s going in a circle because it knows we’re following it.”
Bailey looked to Hatch, who looked surprised. “That actually makes a lot of sense,” the mechanic admitted.
Lewis grabbed the lapels of the jacket he wore and rocked forward on his toes. “Why, thank you.”
“If it knows we’re following it, then why isn’t it coming after us?” Bailey wanted to know.
“Because it can’t find us,” Hatch explained. “We have the cloaks up, but it’s still possible that it can sense it’s being followed, and doesn’t want to lead us back to Monstre Corp, or wherever it’s headed.”
“Which makes the monster more intelligent than I thought,” Lewis mused.
“Ricky Bobby,” Hatch began. “Back off the monster and determine if it changes course.”
“Okay, but it might get away,” Ricky Bobby warned.
Hatch shook his head. “That’s a risk we’ll have to take.”
“Have you figured out a way to find D-factor?” Lewis asked.
Hatch shook the case. “No, I was too busy upgrading your comms so that Pip could be paired with you on the next mission. You’re welcome.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re only one Londil,” Lewis said with a laugh.
Bailey took the comms case from Hatch. “With eight tentacles,” she teased, wearing a slight smile.
He gave her a mock look of offense. “Creating a way to find D-factor will be my next project. I don’t suspect it will be that difficult.”
Bailey slipped her comm pieces out of the case and then handed the container to Lewis. “But if we lose the monster, could you use the tracker we attached to it?”
Hatch shook his head. “I’ve tried multiple times, but I didn’t have enough time to test the tracker, and I don’t think it’s working.”
“But the tracker does belong to you,” Bailey pointed out.
Hatch gave her a confused look. “Yes, I made it.”
“And in a way, it’s lost…” Bailey pressed.
The realization dawned on Hatch’s face. “DJ should be able to find the tracker.”
Bailey placed the comms into her ears. “Which means you’ll find the monster.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Hatch wondered as he waddled away.
“Well, hello, beautiful,” Pip said
over the comm.
“Ugh, don’t call me that,” Bailey complained.
Lewis gave her a questioning look. “Call you what?”
Bailey pointed to the comms he’d taken from the case. He put them in his ears.
“And hello to you, handsome,” Pip said.
Lewis laughed. “Oh, this is going to make visiting Tueti more interesting.
Chapter Seven
Q-Ship, Planet Tueti, Cacama System
Green, rolling hills stretched out to the horizon, neatly lined with hundreds of rows, crisscrossing over the acreage.
“Damn, that’s a lot of farmland,” Bailey said, slowing the ship as they explored the terrain.
“Yeah, apparently most of the planet looks like this,” Lewis stated, reviewing the notes that Jack had given them.
“You should feel right at home here,” Bailey teased. “Maybe we can find you a pile of manure to shovel.”
Lewis batted his eyelashes at her. “Wow. That would really be swell.”
“Why, exactly, were you working on a ranch?” she asked him again.
She’d pretended to let the subject go after Lewis closed up about why he’d quit being a detective, but she kept casually trying to bring it up again.
He shook his head. “I thought it would be fun.”
“Shoveling shit?” Bailey asked. “You thought that would be fun?”
“Well, I thought that taking care of animals would be, you know, fun, rewarding work,” Lewis stated.
Bailey nodded. “I can see that. For me, kicking fugitive ass is very rewarding work.”
“Animals are simple. They can be playful or mischievous, but I’ve never met one that was malicious.”
“Unlike the human that you were running away from,” Bailey inferred. “What was her name again…? Melanie?”
Lewis tensed. “That’s not what I was doing. Melanie had nothing to do with me quitting the business,” he lied.
“But you said that she used to mess with you,” Bailey reminded him. “Was she your partner?”