Space Chase (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 10)
Page 9
That was another reason Sara decided to run away. For sure, the spaceplane would crash or even worse. Sara was completely convinced of this as she had that kind of luck and being a princess didn't help. Everything she touched turned to crap.
"Steve," Sara called as they were walking down the hall, which was crowded with lots of smelly people from all over the place. "Steve, I need to go to the bathroom, and after that, I want some red licorice from that candy store. Also, some gum drops, some chocolate, and bubblegum."
"Ok, dudette," Steve replied, feeling for his wallet, while wondering if he had a paycard or any cash inside. "Rent and I will wait for you over here. You got some money, bro? I'm a little short, and the chicklet wants to fill her trap with a bunch of candy things."
"Sure, Steve," Rent replied while standing by the window of The Android Shop.
Two androids that looked like women were modeling underwear. The droids, one red and the other a blonde, glided up to the front where all the men stood gazing with awestruck expressions at their exposed synthetic skin. Then, like runway models the droids executed a pirouette, followed by a long-legged strut to the back of the store. There, they quickly swapped garments and returned wearing something else, or nothing at all. Rent wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at.
Sara thought the android underwear looked really nice. In fact, she needed some herself but had been too afraid to ask anyone in her family. She wished her mom was alive because she would have taken Sara to buy that kind of thing, but her mom had been dead so long Sara hardly remembered her.
Sara couldn't ask Katie because she would turn it into a gigantic deal. She'd order the Palace seamstresses to sew up about four hundred bras. They'd put gold thread on them and embroider all kinds of little crowns and jewels. She'd probably even call a presser to announce it.
Of course, Sara wouldn't dream of asking Steve or Rent, which left her with exactly nobody and no underwear. That was just one of the problems with being an Imperial Princess. There were too many people around and yet, too few.
Sara went into the bathroom and waited in the line, which was really long. In fact, it seemed to stretch for miles out the door. As luck would have it though, Sara saw someone she recognized right away. It was Carolie's mom, Joanne Psfa-a-a-whatever. She was standing by a sink washing her face, which was all red and puffy as if she had been crying. Sara figured that was due to Carolie's dad, who hadn't really been her dad, but close enough. Sara understood what that was like because she had a dad who wasn't really her dad, too.
"Sara?" Joanne cried, spying the Princess in the mirror. She had been drying her face with that recycled brown paper that crumbled and left little bits all over her skin. "Sara, what are you doing here? Are you all alone?"
Sara ran to Joanne, and threw herself in her friend's mother's arms.
"I'm running away," she sobbed dramatically, which she could do because she was a preteen and Drama Queen was a required course at her middle school. She hugged Joanne tightly and wept with a hysterical wail. "Hide me, Joanne, before something terrible happens."
"Where's your father?" Joanne asked, stroking the child's hair.
"He's outside looking at women's underwear with my Uncle Rent."
"So your grandparents are here, as well?"
"Yes, we all came on the plane with Sam, except he died and turned green, and then, they carted him away."
Joanne was certain that her theory was correct. This wasn't an odd coincidence at all. Something evil was going on and Sam had been a victim. Now, Sara and maybe Joanne was in trouble too. Unfortunately, due to the dust storm, they couldn’t escape so Joanne would have to hide and take Sara with her.
"Don't worry, Sara," she said. "We'll run away together. You stay with me and I promise to keep you safe."
As Joanne and Sara emerged from the restroom, they discovered Steve and Rent still in front of The Android Shop. A cluster of people were standing around them, some pointing and whispering, "Are they the Imperial Princes?"
"No." Steve responded. "I'm just that guy on that show on the vid. You know, the one that takes place on an island where everyone votes to kick each other off?"
"Well, who's that guy?" A man indicated Rent. "You can't both be that guy from that show."
"Why not?" Steve replied. "Stranger things have happened." Grabbing his brother's arm, Steve pulled him down the hall, away from the crowds and the restroom where Sara had gone.
"What about Sara?" Rent asked while following his brother's lead.
"Sara? Oh. Yeah. Sara. I forgot about her."
Steve turned to go back, to wait for the daughter that kept slipping from his mind every other minute or so.
Surprisingly, she was there with Sam's wife, Joanne. Steve had always been fond of Joanne. In fact, even so distressed, he thought she looked just swell, although he realized this was really bad timing to hit her up, as Sam had only been cold for about four hours.
"Joanne," Steve called, appropriately somber. He knocked Rent in the ribs so his brother would look appropriately solemn, too.
"Sir," Joanne said icily, as she had never admired Steve. In fact, she despised him for screwing her once friend, Hannah.
"I'm so sorry. Sam was a really good friend."
"I'm sorry, too," Rent added. "Although, I didn't really know the guy."
"Thank you." Joanne nodded, taking Sara's arm. "Would you mind if I went shopping with the Princess? She needs some underwear and a few other things."
"Joanne!" Sara cried, turning bright red. "Do you have to give them the details?"
"Sure," Steve replied. "Maybe, afterward we can grab a bite to eat?"
Joanne wanted to say something like, "Over my dead body." Considering that might actually come to pass, instead, she smiled politely displaying all her teeth.
"Maybe another time when I'm feeling better. Sara and I will be about a half an hour. We'll meet you back here. Come on, sweetie, let's go."
Sara and Joanne ran down the terminal, darting in and out of the milling crowds.
"I'm going to take you back to my hotel room," Joanne gasped, as soon as she could catch her breath. "When space travel resumes, we'll go to Turko. We'll let Taner fight it out with the Emperor. He's about the only one who isn't afraid of HIM."
"Oh yay!" Sara exclaimed as Turko meant she could hang out with her BFF, Carolie. In the meantime, a hotel room was lots of fun.
"We're all alone here," Katie announced to her husband, who was sitting at his desk in his shipboard office. "The kids are in the station and the androids are shut down. Gosh, what is there for us to do?"
Senya chuckled and turned his face to his wife, who was staring out the window at the clouds of dust.
"Did you create this storm, by chance? I don't ever recall seeing one quite this wide or thick. Frankly, I don't recall encountering one ever in this sector."
"Now, why should I desire to be confined here at this spacebase?"
"I don't know, but with you, something is always up. I know you didn't kill Sam, but I suspect you knew about his imminent death. What I don't know yet is why you allowed it to occur."
Senya didn't respond. However, he did shut down his netbook and rise to his feet.
"Where are you going?" Katie asked as she followed him out.
"I should like to revisit this base and take a walk about. Shall I put on a hat and coat, or shall I just go as this?"
"No, you definitely need to cover up," Katie replied, grabbing Senya's long, hooded cloak from their stateroom closet. "If you walk into the terminal like this, everyone will have a heart attack and die."
"'Tis nice to know that I am so well loved. Will you cover up yourself, as well?"
"All I need is some large glasses and a scarf upon my head. No one will ever recognize me. They never do. This is a good idea. I think it will be fun. It's been years since we've had a chance to be out in public. Let's go look in shops and get some coffee. Maybe have dinner in a restaurant with a view."
&n
bsp; "I should rather prefer to take a ride in a lift."
"Why?" Katie locked the spaceplane's door and guided her husband through the docking bay.
"Why?" He repeated as the lift arrived. The doors swished open, and he stepped inside. "Yes, I believe this is the correct one."
"Deck six, please," Katie requested, but just as it had done more than forty years ago, the lift stopped in between two floors. It stayed that way for quite some time. In fact, for nearly an hour, the lift was stalled due to an electrical short.
This suited the Imperial Couple just fine as they were in no hurry to get to the shopping arcade. Some moments in time and space are so good, they need repeating.
Chapter 13
Woofbert Wangdog stood at the lectern giving his speech. It was supposed to be about converting waste to energy, but as usual, it was all about himself.
"I initiated this," Woofbert declared, followed by, "When I instituted that," which was then, superseded by, "As I made this possible for all of you, Andorians."
A smattering of applause greeted his words, so Woofbert paused in his speech to place a hand over his hearts.
"Thank you," he sniffed haughtily, his nose so high in the air, a bird could have perched upon it.
When the trickle of sound from the audience had died out, Woofbert resumed his cadence once again. It was difficult to read from the prompter with the lights blinking and periodically, growing dim, as the spacebase was still on auxiliary power due to the dust storm.
Nevertheless, Woofbert forged ahead, occasionally missing a few words and losing track of his place. Somehow, he arrived at the last sentence which went something like, "Thanks to me, Andorus II is prosperous today," and once again, the audience politely pounded their heads upon their tables in applause.
"Thank me, thank me," Woofbert praised himself. In fact, he had lifted his plate and was about to hit it upon his head in appreciation. Instead, he was interrupted by what appeared to be a flash of silver light, which drew his attention to the back of the room.
There, Woofbert noticed a stranger in the shadows. He was a rather tall and broad-shouldered fellow covered from head to toe in a heavy, black cloak. A hood hid his face and eyes, yet he still gave Woofbert pause. Actually, it so disturbed him, Woofbert dropped his plate.
While the under-chief of staff made to clean up the shattered porcelain, Woofbert saw the man slowly lower his hood. Immediately, Woofbert recognized the long black and silver hair, as well as the silver eyes shining in his face.
"I've got to go now," Woofbert announced a bit quickly. "Sorry, I've got another engagement far, far away."
As Woofbert scrambled to extricate himself from the lectern and the microphone clipped to his vest, he stepped on the teleprompter's cord and twisted his foot. The prompter swung around and hit him on the back of the head while the microphone cord wrapped tightly around his neck.
Woofbert plunged the four steps of the podium to land upon the first table of conventioneers, who had just been served their appetizer and main course. This consisted of Andorian Ox entrails in a cream sauce and seasoned with oregano and basil. That was followed by a large bowl of Jelly Fish Slime and noodle soup, sprinkled with the liver dumplings made from Talasian Rock fish.
By the time, Woofbert's feet were once again on the floor, and the cream sauce quickly wiped from his hitherto perfect blue hair, the Emperor had disappeared, and surprisingly, no one else had seen him there.
Woofbert raced back to the Presidential Suite at the Holiday Inn, where he promptly changed his clothes and rang Delores.
"He's out to get me," Woofbert cried.
"Who?" Delores was eating a double cheeseburger with a chocolate milkshake. While Woofbert was at his conference, she was at Disneyplanet. Accompanying her on this tax payer funded junket was her mother, sister, and all their kids. She also had a staff of seventy which included four gourmet chefs, even though she was now enjoying the menu at Mickey D's. Delores's personal trainer had also joined the trip in order to help her exercise off that order of extra-large fries.
"The Emperor," Woofbert screamed. "Monrat said he was going to kill me. I saw him. He's here to carry it out."
"That's ridiculous, Woofbert," Delores scoffed. "Get a grip on yourself. He hasn't killed you yet." Over the course of the conversation, Delores convinced Woofbert of his value to society. "I bet he's there to thank you for all of your hard work."
Woofbert, whose vanity knew no bounds, started to think that perhaps his wife was right.
"Of course," he decided. "He's probably come to give me an award." So, Woofbert took off his clothes and summoned his adjunct.
"I feel like a round of Worf. Reserve me mat, and get me a new set of clothes."
"Sorry, Mr. President. This spacebase only has a putting green. Would that satisfy your need to hit a stick?"
As Woofbert was desperate to work off his anxiety, an abbreviated Worf game would have to do. He sent the adjunct to secure the green while he dressed in clean purples and false beard. Then, grabbing his favorite ball and stick, he boarded the hotel elevator. Woofbert admired his reflection in the smoky mirrored walls. He patted his dark blue hair and finger combed his false beard.
"Of course, Delores is right," he told himself. "I'm too perfect for the Emperor to dispose. Perhaps, he's even here to ask me for advice. Maybe, he even wants me to help him rule."
On the fourth floor of the hotel, the elevator stopped. The doors swished open to admit a tall broad-shouldered man. He was dressed from head to toe in a heavy, black woolen cloak, and his face was hidden by the folds of his large hood.
Woofbert felt the breath escape his body as his spine turned icy cold, and his legs grew numb. He would have run away if he could, but the doors had already shut, locking him and the man together for three more floors.
On the third floor, Woofbert steadied his breath and hearts. Perhaps, this man was merely another hotel guest. Maybe it was the fashion on his planet to dress in such a way, even though on Andorus, such an outfit would have been a major faux pas.
On the second floor, Woofbert's legs relaxed. Clearly, if this was the Emperor, he would have already spoken his mind. Instead, the man was smoking what smelled like a Marlboro cigarette, and seemed perfectly at ease on this ride down.
The first floor arrived a moment later, to which Woofbert exhaled an enormous sigh of relief.
"Good day," he said to his companion. "I hope you enjoy your stay on the spacebase here." Then, he moved forward and waited for the doors to open.
Surprisingly, the lift stayed firmly closed. Woofbert glanced up at the light just to make certain it indicated Floor One.
"That's curious," he remarked, glancing at the reflection of the man, while pushing the little button labeled, "Open."
Instead, the elevator began to descend again. In fact, it continued downward though no more floors were listed on the menu.
"Where are we going?" Woofbert cried, once again his hearts pounding in his chest.
"Where would you like to go?" The man replied in his lyrical and unmistakable Rehnorian voice.
Woofbert had a lot of answers to that question which included, "Anywhere but here," and, "Back home." However, he smiled politely and even forced himself into a little bow while relying on his trademark charm to save his life.
The Emperor chuckled, although Woofbert doubted that he was amused. In fact, instead of opening the door and letting him out, the elevator began a free-fall. This forced Woofbert to grasp for the mirrored walls in hopes that he would not immediately die when the box crashed at the bottom of the station.
"Please," Woofbert begged, tears streaking from his eyes. "I'm not ready to go down below. Please halt this lift."
"Are you certain?" the Emperor asked, the lift jolting to a hard and painful stop, which tossed Woofbert on the ceiling, but not the Big Man.
In fact, the only strain it seemed to cause was to the Emperor’s hood, which slipped backward off his head, to expose his face
and those wicked silver eyes. The light seemed to shine upon Woofbert's soul, penetrating deep within his brain and in his hearts. What it found there, Woofbert feared it didn't like very much at all.
As Woofbert lay crumpled on the floor, having been displaced from the ceiling by gravity, the Emperor stepped forward, the hem of his cloak brushing against Woofbert's face.
"You are fortunate," he said. "I like to hunt."
"Sorry?" Woofbert's head was feeling numb. Perhaps, it was even broken.
"I am a hunter," the Emperor whispered, kneeling down to shine that silver light in Woofbert's eyes. "I like to catch and tear my prey apart, limb from limb."
"Are you going to eat me?" Woofbert whimpered. "I'm far too skinny. Surely, there are others, perhaps, plumb Monrat who you'd more so enjoy."
"I can't say right now what I shall do. It shall depend on how hungry I am when the game is over."
"What game?" Woofbert watched as the Emperor rose. The hem of his heavy cloak slapped at Woofbert's face.
"The game that you have just begun to play. Go ahead, Woofbert Wangdog. I am generously giving you a head start. Watch your back for I am always behind you. In fact, I am also in front of you and around you on every side."
Then, the lift door opened with a swish, and the Emperor was gone as if he had never been. Woofbert shakily rose to his feet and struggled out into the room, only to discover he was in the bowels of the spacebase amongst the plumbing.
Pym was seated on her bench watching people. These Humans were more entertaining than the evening news. Presently, from down the hall, a tall broad-shouldered man approached, dressed in a heavy black woolen cloak which obscured his face. He sat down upon the bench next to Pym, his long legs stretched out before him. From his pocket, he pulled a cigarette and lit it with a flick of his finger. Taking a long drag upon it, he softly spoke.
"They are all here now."
"Yes, Sir," Pym replied, once again her hearts tripping in her chest. "Does that mean the game has already begun?"