by J. Naomi Ay
On a whim, she decided to apply for a position on a spacebase after perusing a website that promised jobs, jobs and more jobs. She was immediately hired on, her résumé perfect for the task of manning the register in an intergalactic Kwikie Mart.
At the time, Pym had no idea that her new position would last for the next fifty-odd years. The money wasn't great, but living in space was a trip, especially to an Andorian raised upon a rock in a mud hut.
She did so well in this job, earning accolades from the boss, soon Pym became the manager of the Mart. Later, when the Laundromat was opened in the adjacent rented space, Pym was assigned to run that, as well.
If truth be told, she enjoyed the Laundromat, maybe even more so than the store. A spinning washer was a brilliant sight, the laundry colors, especially when they were wet, were more beautiful than anything Pym had ever seen. The revolving noise of the machine's engine, as went into its final spin, was a hypnotic experience for Pym to witness. She could spend all day and night, and often did on her day off, watching the washing machines revolve around.
Pym knew about the odd Rehnorian prince since the Andorians and Rehnorians first attempted an alliance. This was way back when Pym and the Prince were both in their teens. The Andorian President had gone to Mishnah to confer with the old Rehnorian king, but nothing had ever resulted from that meeting.
However, there were lots of pics broadcast on the news, and that was when Pym first saw the young Prince's face. Although she was never given to swoon, the sight of him made her faint dead away. For many nights afterward, she saw him in her dreams.
Pym longed for that strange boy, as did many teenage girls. She prayed that someday he might notice her. She didn't know how it might happen, as why would he ever have a reason to visit Andorus II? And, if he did, why would he ever want poor, ugly, blue, Andorian Pym?
Pym, on the other hand, would have happily taken that odd Rehnorian prince in a heartbeat, even if he had turned out to be a Rigelian dump scavenger instead a future king. She loved the look of him and his brooding sadness, which broke her already suffering heart.
Although their troubles differed, Pym was certain she understood his pain. The loneliness that was so clearly etched upon his face was merely an echo of what was written upon hers. In fact, Pym decided, they were two lost souls who were meant to collide.
Time happened, and the Prince disappeared. Pym stayed seated on her rock. Then, the Prince came back. Pym went off to space, where she watched him from afar. Often, his face was shown on the vid, or he graced the covers of the magazines, which Pym dutifully stacked in the Kwikie Mart's magazine racks.
Pym knew every facet of the Prince's life. She studied his existence as if she were prepping for a test. From the day he arrived within the Alliance to his triumphant return to planet Rehnor, Pym could recite from memory every detail before and since.
The most momentous day in Pym's life occurred several years after she arrived at Spacebase 41-B. The stars had aligned perfectly allowing her ultimate wish to come true. Pym saw him, that very Prince, in person.
Pym had been manning the cash register in the Kwikie Mart when the most striking man she had ever seen laid a pack of cigarettes on the linoleum counter. He swiped a pay card at her screen causing his name to flash in front of her eyes. 'Sehron de Kudisha', it read, and one of Pym's hearts gave out. This was the name that was indelibly inked upon her brain from the moment she had first laid eyes upon the boy decades ago.
Pym was certain she was having a small stroke, as she couldn't breathe and the blood was rushing in her ears. It took her a full thirty seconds before she could push the button to ring the sale. In fact, Pym was so dumbstruck in the Prince's presence, she couldn't thank him for his purchase, or offer him the gum on sale. Instead, she stared up at the dark glasses which hid his silver eyes, her mouth open like an Altarian Blow Fish sucking water.
From behind the counter, Pym watched the Prince rip open the pack of cigs and light one with a flick of his index finger. Then, her second heart thumped to a stop completely as he smiled down upon her face.
Well, it was sort of a smile. Pym was almost certain. Alright, it wasn't a broad, toothy, happy gaze. It was really just a slight upturn in a corner of his lip. However, he spoke her name. He said, "Thank you, Pym," in his deep and lyrical voice, a sound and a phrase that Pym would repeat a million times hence.
"Thank you, Sir," Pym replied, feeling a tingling sensation swim up her legs and arms, across her spine and shoulders and settle deep within her belly. As she watched the Prince leave the Kwikie Mart, his long black hair spread in curly wisps across his broad shoulders, the tingling sensation sent a bolt straight into Pym's second heart. Since both were now disabled, Pym could no longer stand, but fainted dead away.
During her lunch break that same day, even though Pym's head hurt from the large bump where her skull had impacted the floor, Pym wandered the spaceport searching for the Rehnorian prince, just to glimpse him in person once again. She found him in the neighboring terminal leaning casually against the wall, not far from the coffee kiosk where she ordered her morning hot chocolate. An Allied Spaceforce Starship was unloading, blue uniformed crew swarming like flies, several of whom were attracted to the Prince as if he was a flower.
Oblivious to the women who were attempting to chat him up, the Prince stood smoking the cigs he had purchased from Pym. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone to arrive, and obviously that someone was not her.
Clandestinely, Pym watched all this from a tiny table across the hall, in the front window of the FroyoGalaxy Shop where she ate her lunch every day. As Pym spooned today's featured flavor into her mouth, which incidentally was salted caramel mixed with Talasian green tea, she stared again at the Prince's hair and his perfect princely features. How she wished for just one moment that he would be hers.
Although, poor Pym had long ago accepted her dismal lot in life and never aspired to be anything more, her heart broke as she faced the reality of the situation. A man this beautiful would never want a girl with a hideous face, even if he was too blind to see it.
As Pym was walking back to the Kwikie Mart later that afternoon, she saw the Prince again, but this time, he wasn't alone. Instead, he was chasing a blue uniformed Spaceforce Human girl who kept telling him to, "Get the hell away."
The Prince responded by grabbing the Human about her waist, and pulling her against him to kiss deeply. Pym knew from that moment forth, this Human was the one he loved. Her hearts sank and died right there upon the linoleum floor.
Tears came to Pym's eyes followed by a flash of jealous rage. However, when she calmed, she knew it was no contest. Ever. Still, in the back of her mind and deep down in her soul, Pym wished Katie Golden a horrid death. Late at night, when she couldn't sleep, Pym would imagine the Human suffering. She’d envision the girl writhing in pain, a knife stuck between her breasts. Alternatively, she could burn at a stake. Pym would laugh as the human became French fried, and then, if she was so inclined, Pym might eat her.
Some forty-odd years later, Spacebase 41-B belonged to the Empire of Rehnor and Pym's beloved prince, who was now the Emperor. Pym was still working in the Kwikie Mart, still selling gum and Super Galactic Insect and Parasite Repellant Spray while dreaming at night about killing Katie Golden.
Pym's days went by as they had for many years, ringing up sales and watching clothes spin. In fact, Pym vastly preferred the washers to the evening news reports, especially when it came to Andorus II. Pym was so distressed by the fate of her own people who had reverted to slothful drones sitting on rocks. Gone were the Andorians, who worked hard to make a go, for all their efforts were taxed away from them.
For several years now, Andorus II had been ruled by a corrupt regime, which unbeknownst to them, had enslaved the people. The government encouraged them to stay home, to forget about work, to play their vid games and listen to music, which numbed their brains.
This made Pym glad that she had decided to
spend her life out in space, while at the same time, it broke her heart to see her people in such a state. She wondered why the Emperor had yet to step in and save his Andorian realm. Maybe, they didn’t deserve it, or maybe, he no longer cared.
Pym considered the Andorian President, Woofbert Wangdog, a nefarious fellow and the second one on her list, who she would like to kill. Given the choice of Woofbert or Katie Golden, a gun and one bullet to shoot, Pym would have to think long and hard on where to aim.
"Did you hear about the dust storm?" Louise said one day, handing Pym her mega froyo cup. Today's special flavor was chocolate malt mixed with Andorian baby jelly fish slime, a favorite of Pym's after French Vanilla.
"No." Pym licked her finger where a tiny bit of slime had dribbled down. "This is delicious, Louise. I wish you'd serve this more often."
Louise made a face with one of her two heads, while the other ignored Pym and looked out the window.
"There's an Andorian Waste to Energy convention going on in the adjacent Radisson hotel," Louise continued, turning back to reload the froyo machine. "That's the only reason I'm making this flavor today. Everybody else thinks that tastes like crap. In forty years of running this shop, I still can't figure out why you Andorians like it."
Pym shrugged as a response and sat down at her usual table, while noting the crowds congregating in the spaceport's hall.
"A mega storm is gathering outside." Louise's second head noted the direction of Pym's gaze. "That's why there are so many people hanging about. It's going to be a nasty one. They say the station is being shut down. Too bad we can't close our shops and hide in bed."
By the time, Pym returned to her spot behind the Kwikie Mart counter, the entire Spacebase was on alert for inclement weather. All planes were docked and tied, the bay doors sealed until further notice, and all the terminals were filled with stranded passengers. In fact, the line in Pym's store was so incredibly long, by the time she got a moment to rest they were completely sold out of soda. All the peanuts and salty snacks, as well as most of the sweets and savory treats, were gone except for the kind only Andorians liked.
Unbeknownst to Pym, while she was busy ringing up sales, an Andorian Transplanetary Express from Andorus II was now arriving. It was carrying a group of conventioneers for the Waste to Energy convention, as well as a boondoggle holiday in the spacebase's casino.
In the first class section of the plane sat Woofbert Wangdog, President of Andorus II, who had been invited to give the keynote speech about alternative fuels. Woofbert was up for reelection the following year, but was considering cancelling the whole affair as he was very much enjoying his tenure running the planet. Woofbert's wife, Delores liked living in the presidential palace which was so large, they never had to see each other at all. In fact, several weeks could pass without them bumping into one another, even in the hall. This was fine. Actually, it was preferred.
Delores's job as First Lady was to attend luncheons and galas in lovely outfits with her hair freshly straightened and sprayed. Woofbert's job was to play Worf, a game with a ball and stick that was conducted on a giant mat while others stood around. The objective was to connect the stick with the ball, or if that was not possible, connect the ball with the stick. Each time this event occurred, the contestant would earn a point. Twenty points resulted in a win, and Woofbert loved to win, so he played as much as possible whenever he could.
Occasionally, Woofbert showed up for work at his office in the palace, which consisted primarily of snapping pics for the fawning press. Woofbert would pose dramatically at his desk, the Emperor's face displayed on his screen.
"I'm so glad you agree with me," Woofbert would say, his feet upon his desk. This was all a show, of course, for in the seven years of his presidency, not once had the Emperor accepted Woofbert's call.
Afterward, Woofbert would go outside on the balcony and make a tremendous speech which he read from a teleprompter deftly hidden from the public's view. It didn’t matter what he said, as long as he delivered it well as Woofbert was a master at vocal tone and inflection. His voice had been called hypnotic. Women fainted when he spoke, and babies stopped their crying and stared at him.
"I'm totally amazing," Woofbert told himself, every morning, his voice practically hypnotizing himself. "The people of Andorus II are so lucky I'm here."
However, the election season was fast approaching, and there were grumblings among some folks that perhaps, Woofbert Wangdog ought to be removed. Andorus II was in dire straits, the economy was in the pits, and this year's selection of new vid shows was really bad.
Woofbert's advisors had said he ought to get out and cheer the electorate up by making more appearances among the people. This was why he had arrived today to give the keynote speech at the Waste to Energy convention on Spacebase 41-B.
"I really don't want to go," Woofbert had complained. "Maybe instead, I can take another vacation."
"Be careful," Monrat Morfel, his chief assistant had advised. "One day the Emperor is going to catch up with you. They say he hates politicians, especially those who cheat the people."
"I'm not cheating," Woofbert insisted, getting ready for his next Worf game as that was the highlight of his presidential agenda for the day. This required dressing in purple and donning a false beard. Optionally, one could wear a false mustache if they were so inclined.
"You're not working," Monrat cautioned, tying the beard in the back of Woofbert's neck. "You're spending too much time playing Worf while the economy is in shambles."
"That's what the people want," Woofbert sniffed. "That's why the voted for me." He turned around and admired his backside in the mirror.
"The opinion polls say you're not that popular anymore. The opposition leader may just win the next election." Monrat grabbed the Worf stick bag and the box of balls.
"No, he won't," Woofbert replied, leading Monrat out the door. "Find something to blackmail him and knock him out of the competition. Does he have carnal relations with his favorite Worf stick? Maybe his wife has four breasts instead of three. Perhaps, he's really has green blood instead of blue. I don't care how you do it, but I must win. I intend to be president of Andorus II for life. The Emperor's too busy to worry about us anyway. As long as we send him the taxes, he'll leave me alone to do whatever I want. By the way, isn't about time we raised the rates on the middle class?"
Monrat Morfel set to work as he had been instructed digging up garbage and other refuse on the opposition party leader. He continued to be concerned that karma or the Emperor would eventually catch up with them, and before he knew it, he'd wake up one morning dead.
Monrat had heard of similar instances on other planets where the politicians had gotten greedy, and were violently taken out by the Emperor's forces. He reasoned that he was only acting under orders, but he also knew the Emperor wouldn't abide by such an excuse. Under Imperial Law, aiding and abetting was the same as doing the crime.
When the day came for the Emperor to punish Woofbert Wangdog, Monrat was certain he'd be hit by the crossfire in the exchange. For this reason alone, he made certain his affairs were always in order. Monrat's bag was always packed, and his speeder not far away, whenever an Imperial spaceplane was sighted in the Andorian sky.
Chapter 6
Seating himself in the window seat of the Rozarian Spaceline's flight to Earth, Thad immediately ordered a drink.
"Tonic," he told the flight attendant, smiling broadly at the young brunette and thinking a trip to the One Million Mile High club might just make this flight a whole lot more enjoyable.
"Thank you." The girl consulted her passenger list. "Oh! Duke Kalika-hahr! Thank you, sir." Now, she smiled exuberantly, too. "Thank you for traveling with us today. Shall I bring the Duchess a drink, as well?"
"What duchess?" Thad felt a sudden onrush of panic and rightly so.
"It says that seat 3B," the girl pointed at the one next to Thad, "is reserved for Gina Kali…"
"No, no, no!" Thad interrupted.
"It must be the travel agent's mistake. I'm traveling by myself. I'm going home to visit my brother, Larry."
"Well, I'm going with you," Gina announced, arriving alongside. She tossed her carry-on bag to the attendant to stow above her seat. "I'll have whatever he's having. We're both alcoholics, and we're both in recovery. I'm here to make sure he stays on the wagon, as well as keeps his alimony paid."
"Leave me alone, Gina," Thad growled as the girl went to fetch two tonics, neat and dirty.
"I'm going wherever you're going, Thad. You'll never escape from me." Gina smiled in that thin-lipped, toothy way that Thad had always hated.
"What if I'm going to Hell?" He smirked, thinking himself ever so clever and smart.
"Then, I'm with you, buddy," Gina retorted and buckled her belt while the plane began to take off.
In the meantime, Thad turned his back and raised up the tiny screen separating the two First Class seats. He folded his arms in front of his chest and made an effort, or at least pretended to sleep.
After two hours of tossing and another of turning, Thad became more irritable than before. Gina was quietly reading a book, something that Thad found incredibly annoying. How could she relax and enjoy this flight when he was so miserable already? What right had she to sit beside him anyway? Didn't she get that he hated her guts?
"Are you doing okay, Duke?" The brunette stewardess asked, reminding Thad of just what he was missing. With Gina by his side, he couldn't exactly suggest to the girl that they meet somewhere in the back.