Jennings' Folly

by Thomas C. Stone

  I looked at the diminutive alien. “What does that mean?”

  Kaliis stared at the stewardess as she moved about the compartment.

  “She is an automaton, a robot, a human facsimile.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “No,” I said, following the robot with my eyes.

  “Yes,” countered Kaliis.

  “I should have known – she spoke like an encyclopedia. Are there many robots on Dreidel?”

  The pilsner was half full already. Kaliis stuck out his purple tongue and licked a trickle of beer from his chin. He burped and pardoned himself. “There are some,” he answered, “but none amount to much. They’re good for manual labor, if you ask me. Not even soldier material.” He downed the remainder of the beer in one long draft and looked at me, his eyes watering. “That was delicious,” he said as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I’ll have another.” Kaliis held the pilsner glass aloft and waved it back and forth for attention.

  I sipped at my fizz and handed over my empty glass when the attendant brought Kaliis his second beer. Kaliis made the comment that there were “living droids” elsewhere in the universe.

  “Like Glaucus?” I asked.

  Kaliis swallowed and pointed a finger at my “bauble,” the birthday ring Glaucus had given me when I was four and that I now wore on a woven leather chain around my neck (much to Papaw’s chagrin, unnecessary baubles, he says). “Exactamundo,” said Kaliis.

  “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”

  “No. Would you if you were him?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. Who knew what anybody would do at any given time? That’s when I realized that the lesson learned from the last hunt was a cruel one. My trusting nature in humanity was gone, and with it, the peaceful cocoon of innocence.

  An announcement informed us we were entering the final stages of our trip. The robot came by again and took Kaliis’s empty glass. “May I have another?” Kaliis asked.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we’ll be landing shortly.”

  “I’ll bet I can down it before we land.”

  The droid paid no mind.

  I asked Kaliis if we should wake Grandpaw but he said let him sleep. “If we wake him now, he’ll just be angry about having to sit through the landing.”

  That sounded perfectly reasonable to me.

  As the pilot announced our final approach, Kaliis started humming under his breath. He’d never done that before – in front of me, anyway, and I wondered if flying made him nervous. He kept on humming all the way through our descent and the runway touchdown. When we finally rolled to a stop, I asked the name of the tune.

  He looked at me with glazed eyes and replied that he had been making it up, but that the primary movement was loosely based on Dreidelian reggae.

  I popped the safety release on the seat strap, stood and stretched. We’d been inside the can a little under forty minutes. Grandpaw had not stirred. Only then did I see the pool of blood collected at his feet. I shook him gently, but there was no response.

  *

  The ambulance waited at the curb. Grandpaw came around as they wheeled him down the concourse. “What happened?” asked the medic.

  Grandpaw told him, “I don’t know. Must’ve missed a meal.”

  “No, no. Your leg, what happened to your leg?”

  “He got shot,” I explained.

  “And he just got off the bullet from Lufthansa?”

  “That’s right.”

  Papaw gripped me by the forearm and pulled me close. “Don’t tell this bozo anything. I won’t donate any more blood!”

  Shortly after that, they gave him a shot and he stopped talking. Kaliis and I weren’t allowed to ride with him inside the ambulance so we went to the cab stand and stepped up to the first vehicle in line.

  The driver balked because of Kaliis.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, warding us off with his open hands. “What is that?” he asked, referring to Kaliis. I went through the routine of explaining Kaliis’ background as the ambulance pulled away from the curb. “That’s my grandfather!” I said, pointing at the passing ambulance. The driver looked doubtful until I showed him a palm full of diamonds I had in my front pants’ pocket.

  “Are those real?”

  “You’ll never know if we don’t go.”

  He paused for half a beat before saying “let’s go.” We threw our bags in the trunk and jumped in the back seat while Muhammad Wahdid climbed behind the wheel of an ancient Ford hybrid that had been converted from its original design in order to run on a wider assortment of fuels. Unfortunately, the conversion did nothing to advance the unusually cramped and uncomfortable back seat.

  I knew his name was Muhammad Wahdid because it was displayed on an ID plate attached to the dash. As he drove the cab from the airport, he said to us, “So, are you here as tourists?”

  “What?” I responded. “No. We’re here to get my grandfather to the hospital.”

  “Your grandfather?” echoed Muhammad.

  “Yes.”

  Muhammad looked at me in his rearview mirror. “Where is your Grandfather?”

  Muhammad’s basic English speaking skills were very good, however he had problems listening or maybe he just got the story wrong in the very beginning and could never recover. I tried to tell him we were going to the hospital to meet him there.

  “Do you understand?” I asked.

  Muhammad nodded vigorously. “Sure, sure,” he said. “But,” he continued, “why do you not bring him with you?”

  “Never mind,” I said. “You know hospital?” I asked, lapsing into Pidgin English in the hopes of being understood if I could just get more basic.

  “Sure, sure,” he said and we drove on.

  By then, I’d lost sight of the ambulance. It wasn’t an ambulance with lights and a loud siren, although it did have a horn. In any case, it was gone and I prayed Muhammad knew where he was going.

  I was never fully sure Muhammad had the bigger picture, but he did get us to the hospital and when I asked him how much for the ride, he held up three fingers.

  “Three?”

  “Yes, three.”

  I dug three diamonds from my pocket and handed them over. He took them, thanked me, and left us on the sidewalk with our bags outside the municipal hospital. Kaliis, of course, stuck out like a blemish on prom night and started getting a lot of attention from both pedestrians and those in passing vehicles.

  “We need to move inside,” I said and that’s what we did. I put both Kaliis and our luggage in a corner, then told the lady at the reception desk about my grandfather.

  “Have a seat,” she said. “I’ll tell them you’re here.”

  I wondered who “they” were but didn’t ask. “Can’t we go be with him?”

  “I’m sorry. That’s not allowed. You’ll have to wait.”

  I returned to Kaliis and dragged our bags into the waiting room which was currently empty, to my relief. Of course, I was concerned about Grandpaw, but I was also carrying two, black velvet bags each holding hundreds of loose diamonds in assorted sizes. Half the time, I expected to see Gomez coming in with a team of killers and the other half it seems I spent keeping track of the bags. Are they still there? I touched my pack, ran my hand along the sides to feel the zippers still pulled up and in place, velcro stuck tight and why didn’t I have locks on my packs?

  “Relax,” said Kaliis. “We may be in for a long wait.”

  Kaliis was dead wrong. Five minutes later, a doctor came into the waiting room and asked if I was Amanda. I told him I was and then he was distracted by Kaliis, so once again I explained about our alien friend. When I was done, all the doctor had to say was “Fascinating,” like Kaliis was some sort of specimen.

  “What about my grandfather?”

  “Yes, of course,” the doctor replied. “Are you aware he’s been shot?”

  I didn’t want to admit anything, especially in front of a stranger. Never let them know what you’re thin
king. I asked, “Is he all right?”

  The doctor shrugged, “I think he’ll be fine, but he’s got to have a round of antibiotics. We cleaned and dressed his wound and gave him plasma. He bled out quite a bit. Am I to understand he just got off a bullet flight?”

  “Well,” I started, but Kaliis stepped forward and acted like he had heard nothing the doctor said, asking if we could see Grandpaw, except he called him Mr. Jennings.

  “No, I’m sorry. The hospital doesn’t allow visitors in the emergency room. You can see him when he’s moved to a room.

  I nearly slapped myself. I needed to get my brain in gear. “Moved to a room? You’re going to keep him?”

  “Oh yes,” said the doctor. “That wound should have been treated hours ago. We have to monitor him for a couple of days. Otherwise…”

  “Doctor, my grandfather is an uncommonly strong man. If there’s any way we can take him out of here -- I’m sure he’d prefer it.”

  “Your grandfather is over seventy years old and has never had a rejuvenation treatment. He’s not going to get over this gunshot wound quickly. Additionally, there’s no way he can be moved at the moment. I don’t know what he’s been doing over the last twenty-four hours, but he’s bruised from head to toe.”

  “How will we know when he’s been moved?”

  “It won’t be long – wait fifteen minutes and ask the lady at the front desk for the room number. I need to get back. Good to meet you… both.” The doctor walked away and although he was wearing an ID badge, I couldn’t remember his name.

  The problem was my own panic. I could track lizards and pull a trigger as well as defend myself from attack, but doing all that plus having to take care of Kaliis in a big city while carrying a fortune in diamonds was a bit overwhelming.

  Kaliis suggested I sit down, “for just a minute.” Good old Kaliis. I did as he suggested and took a few deep breaths like Uncle Pat taught me.

  Thinking about Uncle Pat, I realized I could call for help. Using a strider, he was one day away. He could come to help and maybe bring Phineas too. Relief washed over me and the panic I felt disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

  Papaw had the comm chip, otherwise I would have called Uncle Pat then and there. For the moment, however, everything was settled and I could relax while sitting atop my kit, which, like I said, happened to contain two bags of diamonds.

  Chapter 19

  Doctor what’s his name was right. After fifteen minutes, the receptionist waved at me. “Young lady? You can see your grandfather now.”

  I stood and put on my pack and grabbed two of the duffle-sized bags before heading for the desk. Kaliis had removed his exoskeleton before we boarded the bullet, so he struggled with the remainder. As I approached the desk, I noticed a security guard leaning nonchalantly against an interior column, watching Kaliis and me.

  “Room number?” I asked.

  The receptionist smiled and said “Two-oh-three. Second corridor on your right.” She pointed eastward and I looked past the security guard.

  Kaliis pulled a large bag on rollers, as well as hefting a pack and somehow carrying another, smaller bag holding mostly tech gear like mass detectors and calibrating equipment (In my head I could hear Uncle Pat: “Our gear must work one hundred percent all the time or else you’re dead. That’s D-E-A-D! Can you spell that?”).

  We started up the hallway but the security guard stepped in front of us. “Excuse me,” he said, “but you’ll have to leave your things in the lobby.”

  Kaliis emitted a sigh and looked up at the towering guard. The guard looked back at Kaliis with disgust and added that “it” couldn’t go any further than the lobby.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “The hospital doesn’t allow children or animals, ma’am. I don’t know what that thing is, but it’s my job so I’m not going to take any chances. It can stay in the lobby and I don’t mind telling you I’m planning on keeping an eye on it.

  “It’s a he,” I corrected, then looked at Kaliis and tried to correct myself. “Sort of,” I added.

  Kaliis blushed and told me to go ahead without him. “I’ll be in the lobby,” he said, “watching our gear.”

  I started to argue, but I was trying to follow the path of least resistance and so deposited the two big bags in the lobby with Kaliis. When the guard tried to stop me again for not removing my kit, I kicked him in the shin and let him off with a warning.

  “There are laws about touching children, you know? Where I come from, you’d already have your sorry ass handed to you but since I am unfamiliar with your municipal code and the degree of your law enforcement training, I will assume you’ve learned your lesson. Now, I am going to visit my grandfather and I wish to be left alone. Or do I need to issue a child abuse report?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he stammered, “I was only…”

  I interrupted him, urging him to say nothing further that could be construed as an admission of guilt. It worked. He shut up and didn’t follow me.

  Papaw’s room was in a corner with space for four patients, but it was a healthy community, I guess, because there was only one other patient. He looked up from his magazine when I walked in, nodded, and went back to reading.

  “There you are!” said Papaw, sitting up in his bed. “Where have you been? Where’s Kaliis?”

  I told him everything that had happened and asked how he was feeling.

  “My leg hurts,” he admitted, “but I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

  “Or three.”

  “We’ll see,” he said. “How about the, uh, the gear?”

  “Yep, we’ve got everything down in the lobby. Kaliis is watching it and the security guard is watching Kaliis so we’re covered.”

  “And the, you know, the uh…”

  It dawned on me Papaw was talking around the diamonds. I looked at the old man reading his horticulture magazine (They’re popular on Dreidel – who would’ve guessed?) and he looked over the top of his magazine at me. We made eye contact.

  “Yes!” I said to Papaw. “We’ve got everything.”

  “Good,” said Papaw. “Now listen,” he looked across the room and motioned for me to come closer. “Go to the The Guest House. Get a couple of rooms. Get Kaliis out of the public eye. And you too. Both of you are targets.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can, honey, but there’s more than just yourself to think about. Rent a room for a couple of days. Eat. Sleep. We’ll be out of here before you know it.” Papaw lowered his voice even more. “Don’t let anybody know about the you-know-whats, right?”

  “Of course,” I said, thinking about the three diamonds I gave to the cab driver.

  There was an end table next to the bed. Grandpaw pulled out the drawer and withdrew his wallet, an ancient black leather bulge containing an encyclopedia of Gary Jennings’ knowledge and belief system. Folded away inside were paper notes that were used in some places in place of diamonds or gold (I know! What a crazy idea!). I recognized the color and knew what Papaw handed me would be good to spend in Calgary.

  “Use this,” he said, “and nothing else. That should be enough.” I nodded and he continued, “Now. Have you called your Aunt Liza yet?”

  I was still thinking about the cabbie. Had I done the right thing? I shook my head and told him no, I hadn’t called her because “you have the phone.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Grandpaw, laughing at himself. “The dern thing’s in my pants’ pocket. In the cabinet there.”

  I crossed the room, snagged Papaw’s folded pants from the small closet, fished the device from his pocket and handed it over.

  “Well, good,” he said. “Better if I call her myself anyway. She’s liable to freak out.”

  “Are you going to ask Uncle Pat to come?”

  Papaw leveled his gaze at me. “Do I need to?”

  I pictured Uncle Pat sitting in a motel room with Kaliis and I for two days. “No, I guess we’ll be all right.”


  “Sure, you’ll be all right. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like spreading the you-know-whats around town. That’ll get us in trouble faster than anything else.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “All right. Go back to The Guest House and rent a room and get Kaliis squared away. I’ll call Liza and Pat to let them know we’ll be delayed a couple of days.”

  “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

  “No. Yes. Go take care of Kaliis and our stuff.” Papaw looked across the room to his roommate who was still reading the magazine. “And be careful,” he added.

  *

  Kaliis and I took a cab for the short ride to The Guest House where I rented a room with two double beds. We lugged in the bags and all our gear and piled it all in a corner except for my backpack and I kept that within reach. Kaliis stretched out on the bed nearest the window while I laid a towel on the floor and cleaned our weapons.

  The room had a monitor that displayed local television broadcasts so I tried watching some light comedy but it wasn’t funny so I ended up watching the horticulture and animal sciences channel. Dreidel had only one currently functioning telecommunications satellite (the guy at the front desk said so) so half of the channels vanished when the satellite disappeared over the horizon. We didn’t spend our time watching television back at the ranch.

  I finished cleaning the guns and put them away except for the smallest blaster we had which I first put into my front pants pocket but found it to be too uncomfortable so I pulled it back out and tried wearing it inside the waistband of my pants like Papaw sometimes did. That was uncomfortable too plus I was afraid I might shoot myself.

  The blaster was a hand model with a folding grip. Folded away, it looked similar to small football. Not a round one, like a soccer ball, but an elliptical. Anyway, I tried folding it up and stuffing it in my back pocket. That looked ridiculous and I could no longer sit. I took it out and began foraging through the weapons bag for something else.

  A knock at the door froze me. I was caught unexpected and the small hairs rose on the back of my neck. I looked at Kaliis. He lay on his back, hands resting on his rounded belly, fingers entwined, with eyes open and looking at me.