by James Peters
“No. Mr. Smiles is in there now cleaning it up,” Lt. Morrow said. “He’s had his shower.”
“Good. Now let me explain something about Mr. Aldis. I wouldn’t have picked him if he didn’t have skills that we need. We tested him in the simulators, under various conditions; standard military testing to create improvised methods to kill an enemy. No matter what we threw at him, he always found a way to take out his target. We identified forty-seven ways that had never been documented before. He just improvised. It was uncanny, just watching him. Talcum powder and a rubber band? Dead target. A kid’s crayon and a piece of gum? Dead target. A dog turd and an ice cream cone? D.O.A. Every time. We ran out of ways to test him. That and he’s a scary-good pilot.”
“Where is this going, Ms. Briggam?”
“Discipline and security are your responsibilities. If he bothers me again, I’ll have Mr. Smiles snap his neck before he can improvise a way to respond. Having said that, I think we need his skills. You need to figure out a way to control him. Consider this the first test of your command.”
“It’s not the first. I will take care of it.”
“See that you do. If this mission fails, there is no salvation for you. You’ll be purged in the most painful manner our dear Emperor can imagine. And he has quite an imagination.”
“I understand. You mentioned he’s a good pilot. How good? I can manage a ship with proficiency.”
“Coming in hot from a jump, flying directly into the atmosphere of a gas giant with three hundred kilometer an hour winds, and docking with a tethered mining facility on the first try without wasting retro-thrust? I’ve never seen anyone do it before. He’s dead on, every time. Best pilot I’ve ever seen.”
“And a homicidal maniac as a bonus.”
“Make it work, Morrow.”
“Aye.”
Mr. Smiles emerged from the ship’s Head, avoiding eye-contact with Lt. Morrow. He pointed around the room, looking for confirmation that he had cleaned it sufficiently. The room now appeared spotless and had the added benefit of smelling a fantastic, calming scent.
“That’ll do, Gorilla. That’ll do.”
Mr. Smiles slinked off, as best as a gorilla can slink off. In the hall, he passed Dr. Sorren.
“Hey, Smiles,” Mitch Sorren said. “Here.” He handed the gorilla a piece of security script. The gorilla hesitated in taking it.
“Go on, take it.”
Mr. Smiles took the paper and looked at a prescription for a new pair of Vibratron™ undergarments. The gorilla grinned and hugged the doctor, picking him up off the floor in the process. “Don’t worry about it. Get that filled in the next port.”
Denton Morrow walked the prescribed inspection path along the interior of the Dissolute, prior to a jump. He stopped at the Chronos Drive Generator and saw where a hammock had been hung on his behalf in the maintenance access area. He identified a few standard cubes for his belongings, not that he had any to bring with him. He opened to find it filled with uniforms and casual clothes, in his size. “Hmm. That’s not bad.”
He pawed through the container and checked the indicators on the drive to confirm seven green lights. Standard protocol meant he had to count them, not to know what they did. Green lights, seven in a row, and although it would be obvious if any of them glowed red or had not been illuminated at all, procedure called for him to count them. He noted it in in his autolog and moved on.
He entered the mess hall to confirm that equipment had been properly stowed. It had been, so he proceeded to the next area: Emergency Evacuation. Two escape pods lived there, each capable of holding ten occupants. He counted the green lights, five in each case and autologged it. On to Fuel Storage, Arsenal, and the crew’s sleeping quarters. In each case, he noted the green lights. He knew that the ship wouldn’t jump if any of the green didn’t display, but he didn’t question his job, so he checked them all. Just as he finished, he heard the intercom.
Magnus’s voice crackled. “Lt. Morrow. Jump parameters have been loaded into the nav-computer. Say the word and we’re off like a prom dress.”
“On my mark,” Denton said. He made his way to a porthole to see the star-field. “Mark!”
The star-field changed before him, the indication of a successful jump. Denton noted the time into the autolog, then shouted, “What the hell is that smell?!”
Chapter 24
Tropic of Cancer
I made my way back to Gina and Marco with the knowledge that I’d need to go to Jamaica very soon. We spent a week seeing the sights and enjoying each other’s company. Marco made friends everywhere we went; Gina had a natural way of putting people at ease, and I just went along with an appreciation of every day with her. I knew deep down that things might get real ugly real soon, but for now, I would cherish our time together.
At one point during the week, I noticed her wince when Marco jumped into her arms. In my bliss, I ignored it; a move I would regret soon enough.
When we returned home, I began planning my trip to Jamaica. I studied the map and considered if I should drive or fly to the Florida Keys when I heard Marco screeching in the living room. My mind wandered anyway, so I decided to see what had him so spooled-up. Marco had the television on; watching a story on the space race, showing various file footage of primitive rockets launching into space. The impracticality of that vertical launch method bothered me, but I couldn’t change their crude system. Marco screamed when they showed the ‘pilot’ of this ship; a chimpanzee in a spacesuit.
“Now I see why you were so excited. Another chimp.”
Marco looked at the television and grinned, clapping his hands every time they showed the chimp, calling out loud and jumping around the room. They finally showed the capsule splashdown in the ocean. Marco imitated the action of water splashing from the point of impact, and the bobbing of the capsule. They finally showed a picture of the chimp, smiling broadly, and holding a newspaper with the headline ‘Space Chimp Lives’. Marco raised his hands in the air and raised his fists three times.
“Great. The monkey lived,” I said, dismissing the chimp’s actions.
Marco pulled a fist to his chest and stood proud. “I guess it’s a great day for all of monkey-kind,” I said as I left. Marco made some gesture that I ignored. I walked back to my map. Marco followed me and stood in the chair, looking at the map as I leaned over it. “Marco, please don’t start tearing this up. I’m busy planning a trip.”
Marco shrugged and pointed to the map randomly as if saying ‘Where to?’
“I need to find Nicholai.”
Marco pantomimed dreadlocks and smoking, his symbol for Nicholai. He looked at the map and pointed to Jamaica. He repeated the pantomime and tapped Jamaica again.
“All this time, you knew where to find him, and you didn’t make any indication?”
Marco pointed at me and motioned a shrugging symbol for ‘You never asked’.
He pointed to himself, then to Jamaica.
Marco thinks I am going to take him with me there!
“No. Not you, just me. I’m going to Jamaica; You are staying here with Gina.”
Marco’s eyes flared, nostrils expanded, and he showed his teeth. He repeated the gesture, pointing to himself and Jamaica. He imitated dreadlocks and the smoking again. He was going, regardless of what I had to say.
Gina walked in and smiled at Marco and I. “What’s up?”
“Marco got excited when he saw a chimp on television. It got him all worked up. What are you up to?”
“I need to go to town for a little bit. Are you two going to get along while I’m gone?”
“We’ll be fine.”
Marco motioned that he’d feed me a bottle, change my diaper, and put me down for a nap.
“Cute,” I said.
Gina laughed and left us to our own devices.
“So, let me ask you something, Marco. Do you know where the shuttle is?”
Marco pointed to the map again, indicating Jamaica.
; “Nicholai has the shuttle in Jamaica. That part of the story checks out. I just don’t know about the rest. Nicholai a secret agent? Sure, he’s a drug runner for the Emperor. That’s a good way to get him close to the Emperor. He could have poisoned some of the drugs and killed the Emperor. So, why didn’t he?”
Marco rolled his eyes, raising his arms wide.
“Bigger picture. I get it. He wasn’t after just the Emperor. Trying to bring down the entire power structure perhaps? Or perhaps just greed? He could have just been in it for the money and power that goes along with it. Here’s my concern, Marco. The way Maven tells it; Nicholai is dangerous and I should kill him on sight. But if I were to do that, I would never hear his story. What if he kills me on sight? That would certainly ruin my day. Maybe I can confront him in a safe place?”
Marco’s eyes turned downward as he motioned smoking and dreadlocks, then a gun, followed by a big cross in the air.
He doesn’t want me to shoot Nicholai. “Hmm. He did seem to like you.”
Marco pointed to himself, flexed his muscles, then pointed me, and acted out carrying me like a child.
“Gee, thanks. Just what I need, a chimp bodyguard.”
Marco continued his gestures, trying to convince me that I needed him.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
Several hours into making plans, I heard the door slam.
I sensed a problem just by the way Gina closed the door and stepped inside. She seemed to fall into the room as soon as she got home, where she could let her guard down. She dropped to her knees, tears flowing from reddened eyes, sniffing and sobbing. I ran to her and wrapped my arms around her. She squeezed me until I had trouble breathing. “What is it?”
“I, I went to the doctor. I’ve been having pain.” She broke down again.
“Pain? Where?”
Gina pointed to her chest. “He thinks it’s cancer. That’s what killed Mom.”
I held her close and kissed her forehead. “It’s going to be alright.”
“How can you say that? It’s not going to be alright. Cancer is basically a death sentence. Sure, they’ll put me through all kinds of treatments and surgeries, but I know how this ends. It happened to Mom, Lloyd, and Aunt Edna.”
At that point, I noticed that Marco had wrapped his arms around Gina’s legs. Then he reached up and grabbed her hand in his.
“I’m sorry Marco,” Gina said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Marco pulled Gina’s hand up and put it in mine. Then he motioned to me, and then to him, then to the map, pointing to Jamaica.
“Marco, that doesn’t matter now. We need to take care of Gina,” I said as Marco pulled my hand toward the map.
“No!” I said.
Marco let go of our hands and he started making an intricate gesture. Gina and I looked at him without comprehension. The chimp let out a pitiful cry. He continued, we watched, but I couldn’t understand him. He yelled, Gina cried, then he ran off.
“Gina, I am so sorry. I’ll do everything I can…”
Marco returned, carrying a first aid kit. He pointed to it and to Gina.
Gina took the kit and kissed Marco on the head. “That’s so sweet. I wish this was all I needed.”
Marco snatched the kit back and took it to the map. He pointed to Jamaica and waved his arms like a bird flying.
“Wait. I know what he’s saying. The shuttle’s E-Med kit. It’s bound to have medicine that can fix this! Gina, this is hard to explain, but Marco and I have to go to Jamaica. I think the cure for you and all of this is there.”
“Jamaica? But I need you here. You can’t just leave me.”
“Trust me on this. I’ve told you about the technology and how advanced it is. It’s the same with medicine.”
“But this isn’t a broken bone or the flu. This is cancer!”
“I understand. But we have medicine that is ‘smart’. We can give you an injection, a shot filled with tiny machines…”
“Raka, this isn’t time for your jokes.”
Gina slammed a fist into my chest. “Stop it!”
“This isn’t a joke. I can’t explain it in detail, but I understand the gist of it. In the injection, there are tiny machines, too small to see without magnification. They are programmed to seek out and destroy bad cells. My understanding is they have a tiny proboscis, a lot like a mosquito. But they use it to pump fluid into the nucleus of a disease cell until it is killed. Then they move on to the next, again and again until there is no trace of cancer left. That technology will save you, and other than the injection, it’s completely painless.”
“You are serious, aren’t you?”
I saw glitters of hope in her eyes.
“You think you can do this?”
“Yes. Marco and I will leave in the morning. We won’t come back without the cure.”
Gina stared deeply into my eyes. “But you will come back, won’t you?”
“Of course. You’ll hardly notice we’re gone. Marco, we leave in the morning.”
***
I loaded up the car and Marco brought a suitcase and insisted it went on the backseat. He didn’t share its contents and I didn’t ask. We drove, stopping only when we needed fuel, food, or a bathroom break. Late into the first night, I found myself dangerously tired and I started to see hallucinations in the shadows. I was too tired to drive, so I found a place to pull off the road and sleep for a little while.
A flashlight in my face and rap on the car window woke me. A southern sheriff stood there, shining the light in my eyes. “What’s going on in there, you two?”
I raised a hand up to shield my eyes and in the process, glanced over to see that Marco had brought a blanket with him and had snuggled up next to me. He had the blanket pulled up so just the top of his head showed. “Let me guess, a couple of lovebirds looking for a place to make out?”
“No, not at all. We’re not…”
Marco raised a hairy arm up from under the covers and curled it around my neck, pulling me closer to him. Then I realized he had put on a curly blond wig and a sun dress that must have been in the suitcase.
“Holy cow!” the sheriff said.
He shined his light at Marco, who expertly pulled the blanket up to keep his face in shadow. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car.”
“Is there a problem, officer?”
“Please, just step out of the car.” He motioned me back to his squad car. In the headlights of his car, I saw that he was roughly thirty Earth-years old with the build of an ex-athlete. But the most noticeable feature was his lack of hair. None on his head. No eyebrows, eyelashes, and not a hair on him. I tried not to stare; he ignored my studying him. “Have a seat.” As he opened the back door to the car, I noticed his badge: ‘Harrison’. He pushed me in the car. “Sit.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need to see your drivers license.”
I pulled out my license and gave it to him.
“Raka Varoule. Mr. Varoule, do you have any outstanding tickets or moving violations?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Let’s find out.” He called in on the radio and gave my information to the operator. “So, while we’re waiting, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your girlfriend in the car there?”
“That’s not my girlfriend. I’m married, and…”
“Ah, I see. Had the need to get some on the side?”
“On the side?” I said.
“Yeah, you know, some strange.”
“It would be strange on the side; I’ll give you that. How, I mean, anatomically how could you do it on the side?”
“I never thought about it that way. So this girl of yours, in the car. I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but, she’s a little hairy, isn’t she?”
“Yes, yes she is.”
“I thought so. Armenian perhaps?”
“I don’t know. She does have long arms, for her size.”
“She see
med shy,” The sheriff said.
“I guess she thinks she’s ugly.”
“That’s sad. Listen, I wouldn’t ask you this under normal conditions, but I have to ask. Does she have a sister?”
“A what? I, uh, I…”
“Come on, buddy, don’t leave a guy hanging here. Does she have a sister? If so, can you set me up?”
“No!” I said, then added, “I mean, no sisters. She’s the only one I’m certain.”
“Lucky bastard. Okay, so no outstanding warrants or tickets for you. I’m going to let you go, but I’m going to warn you. If I catch you again here, I’m going to make a pass at that girl of yours.”
“Thank you. I’ll let her know that you were impressed.”
The sheriff stepped out of the car and opened the door for me. “Take care of that little sweetie, you hear?”
“Will do.”
I walked back to the car, got inside, and Marco hugged me and started making kissy-faces. “Stop it, Marco. That cop might just take you up on that stuff.”
Marco gave me a strange look then jumped into the backseat.
“Good idea. You ride back there for a while. I’m awake now.”
***
The drive seemed to take forever, but we finally made it to the Florida Keys. I stopped at a marina in Key Largo and paced the pier, taking in the smells of saltwater, fish, garbage, and diesel smoke. I looked for a captain willing to take me and my unusual companion to Jamaica. Marco walked alongside me as I looked at the various boats and their crews. From one of the boats, a large man approached. He wore shabby clothes, ripped in several places, and some scars on his body lined up the torn clothes. His hands showed scars and callouses, his face covered in dirt, scrapes, and dark spots from the sun. When he talked, I had a hard time understanding him, as if his tongue had grown three sizes too big for his mouth.
“Whur ya’ goin?” he said, and as he did, I noticed he looked at Marco instead of me.
Marco glanced up toward me, the big man’s gaze following, but he never seemed to look directly at me. His eyes and head constantly moved.