by J. M. Hagan
“I’m just kidding,” Jack assured, hitting it on its metal shoulder. He coughed to clear his throat. “Dex, I would like to inform you that this particular robot is very good at his job. Not only was his customer service exemplary, but there isn’t a spot of rust on him. I mean – look at that!” Jack rapped on his head with his knuckles, sounding metal clunks each time. “This guy is all right. Sure, he screws up once in a while, but he’s only human.”
The robot whispered: “Thank you, sir. I will never forget this moment.”
Dex grunted, having heard him clearly; he’d have to of been deaf not to.
“Scram, bozo,” he chortled.
“At once, sir,” the robot replied chirpily, before heading out the door.
“Damn it. He never shuts the door,” Dex muttered in a rage. “Close the door behind you from now on, or I’ll shut you down! Permanent!”
The robot turned. “Oh! I am so sorry, sir! It won’t happen again.” The door closed with a slight click.
Jack smirked at his old friend, and former brother in arms. “Well, that was fuckin’ weird.”
“Jack, how are you?” Dex cried, coming toward him with a smile. They shared a quick embrace. “Come on. Sit down.”
Since last he saw him, Dex had put on a sizeable gut. The grey-haired and balding Deputy, turned arms dealer, was once the cream of the Starman crop; age hadn’t been kind.
“Jack, how many years has it been?”
Jack smiled at him. “Too many, my friend.”
“I’m surprised you’re still around. Last I heard, you were on a mission to Plysar?”
A lot has changed since then. “Yeah. It was a success.”
“Glad to hear it. Although, I was wondering why you chose to risk your life going there?”
“Classified, I’m afraid.” Sorry. But some secrets need to be kept, even from friends.
Dex gave a wry grin, then walked to the other side of his messy desk and put his hands on the surface. “So, what can I do you for?”
Jack smirked, dusting off the chair before taking a seat. Then he put his feet up on the edge of the table, shifting his belt a little. His gut was getting a little rounder, too, with all the travelling they’d been doing lately.
“I need a few of those patented lock picks of yours.”
Dex smiled proudly. “I should’ve known. Where are you breaking into this time, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Jack eyed the booze cabinet. “I hate to ask, man, but you’ve never been much of a host. Pour me a damn drink; you know I don’t do business with friends when I’m sober.”
Dex laughed. “You’re right. What a terrible host I am, and for such a wonderful guest. Why, you know I don’t mind you putting your feet up on the table, and bossing me around in my own place, it wouldn’t be, Jack Murphy, otherwise.”
Jack chuckled. “The drink?” he urged, his brow wrinkled with humour.
Dex waved his hand, going to the cabinet, and he started pouring them drinks. “So, you still with that whizz, Anderson? And the beautiful, Miss Stewart?”
“Yeah. They went to shop for some other tech we need.”
He sat down, handing over a glass quarter-full with Dex’s famous homebrew. Any more than that would be a bad idea. Jack drank a snippet, then snarled as it burned in his throat. “Potent as ever.”
“It’s an old batch,” said Dex, running his tongue along his flaming gums. “Got a hell of a kick. How many lock picks you need?”
“Nine oughta do it.”
“Nine? Where the hell are you going that you need to bust through so many doors?”
“I don’t know that I’ll need them all. I just figured three each sounded good,” he replied, dodging his question.
Dex took a drink. “Need anything else? Some shock grenades? Anti-tank mines? Gatling repeaters? Full-auto shotguns?”
“No. Not today.”
The old Starman was watching him keenly as they spoke. He wanted the truth from him, but Jack wasn’t going to trust anyone with this info. The only people who knew about Europa’s Time-Drive was his crew, and he intended to keep it that way.
With a nod, Dex opened his desk drawer and took out a small batch of test tubes in a square glass box. “They come in orders of ten,” he said, smirking.
“Okay. No problem. Name me a price.”
“Ten thousand.”
“You gotta be shitting me,” moaned Jack, shaking his head. “That’s steep. What happened to friend rates?”
“You’re getting them, Jack,” Dex assured, his nose wrinkling at the bridge as he tried to not laugh. “This is the only place where you can find Nano-bots like these. I usually sell them for fifteen hundred a pop.”
“So, you’re giving me five thousand off? Not bad. I did save your ass at least five times. I suppose I’ve earned it.”
Dex pointed sternly. “Hey! I saved your ass as much as you saved mine, kid. You always were an ungrateful sod.”
Ungrateful sod? Bastard! “Relax. I’m joking.” Jack took out his PDP and accessed his account. “Man, I’m sending you 12, 500 credits. Just to let you know how much I appreciate it.”
Dex shook his head quickly. “No! 10, 000 is all I ask.”
“Piss off. I’d only leave feeling guilty.”
“No. No. I insist.”
“Fine. I’m sending you 15, 000!” Not like I need galactic currency anymore anyways.
“What?!”
Jack chuckled. “Man, just take the damn twelve-five.”
He relented. “Okay. Okay. But only because you insisted.”
The credits went through to his account. Once Dex had checked his account balance on his PDP, he handed over the glass box of Nano-bots. “You remember how they work?”
“Of course.” Jack downed his drink. He stood up, Dex rose with him, looking disappointed that he was leaving so soon. They shook hands. “Well, Dex, it was a pleasure, as always.”
Dex held his hand and squeezed. “Jack…how dangerous is it gonna be?”
Their eyes were locked, and he couldn’t get his hand back until he answered. Jack’s expression relayed uncertainty. “Pretty dangerous. But, you know me,” he said, feigning confidence, “I always come out smelling like roses.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. It’s just an expression, where I’m from.”
Six months later…and twelve years before…
They touched down on a starry night. The temperature was mild and it made the air refreshing as they descended the ramp of their ship. This was the first time they’d walked on their native Earth for years.
“God, I love this air,” said Jack, breathing deep through his nostrils. It was fresh and flavoured, unlike the canned, stale air he was used to breathing on-board the star-ship that had been home since they set out on their journey twelve years previous.
“I can’t believe we’re really here…walking on Earth,” said Claudia.
Anderson looked around with stark self-awareness. He was Jack’s second in command, and he often seemed absorbed in the moment like this.
“It’s surreal,” he said. “We’ve been trying to get back home for so long, yet it feels like we only left yesterday.”
They walked out through some trees that led to fields of corn. The stalks were sifting in the cool night breeze that came and went like a whistle.
“Can’t help but think back to the day we set out,” said Jack.
“Long time ago for us, despite what the calendars are saying,” mused Anderson. “Back then, you were bigger than me.” The six-foot, two-hundred and ten pounds of muscle that marched before him shot a smirk over his shoulder.
“Yeah. I’d still kick your ass.”
“You believe that? Jesus. You are delusional.”
“Shut up the both of you,” Claudia warned. “I’d kick both of your asses.”
She might have been the only girl, but she was far from being a soft touch. Anderson chuckled regardless.
“Whateve
r you say, ma’am.”
“I wonder what I would’ve done tomorrow if they hadn’t found us,” said Jack.
“You would’ve been in bed all day. Sunday, remember?” replied his smart-assed crew-member, his glasses reflecting moonlight.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean, where would my life have led?”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Really?”
Claudia came strolling between them. “Gawd, I miss Earth’s junk food.”
“I miss movies,” said Jack. “Man…what I wouldn’t give for a week back here…in my home…lazing about in my room, drinking beers, and playing video games.”
“I’d love to pick up where I left off in my graphic novel,” moaned Anderson.
Jack felt the nostalgia heavily as he ran a hand through his long hair.
“No point in moaning,” said Claudia. “We’ve lived the best lives we could have.”
“Yeah. Those battles were top-notch,” Jack moaned sarcastically, looking off as if taken by fond memories. “All those brushes with death, all the times when we had to stay on Europa for weeks at a time, bored out of our skulls, none of us ever getting a chance to settle down, have kids – yep – life has been good to us.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing,” she said, hiding her eyes from view by looking off into the corn field. Yeah. I’ll bet…
A whirring sound came at their backs. Bright light surged in the night sky.
They turned in shock.
There was something huge above them, it blocked out the stars like a football field in the sky. A beam of light scanned the surface. When Jack turned to his crew with a worried look, they shared his angst.
The enemy had come.
They’d planned for it to be this way. But they needed to put up at least a little fight. After all, this was the crew of Europa. Famous Starmen, who’d collected some hefty bounties. If they went willingly, they were bound to be regarded with deeper suspicion.
They ran fast as they could across the field of corn. The wind seized Jack’s hair as he went. Anderson was the furthest ahead, running like an Olympian athlete. He kept checking back over his shoulder at them as he went.
Jack’s hand found its way to his weapon. He drew it, kept running with corn stalks beating off him. Claudia mimicked him at his side, holding her weapon in her right hand, with her left hand bracing her wrist. She was gearing up to fire already.
Light swished across them and then locked on. The ship quietly moved overhead. It came about, turning without sound, and then the bay opened. White light poured out.
Claudia stopped, got to her knee. She took aim, fired two bursts from her modified pulse pistol. A barrage of red spheres hit somewhere in the opening – sparks shot out with a fiery crackle.
The ship zoomed behind them. She got up and ran again. “Jack, we’re in trouble here!”
“I know!” he cried, with growing pants to his breath. “God dammit! I didn’t think they’d be onto us so fast!”
They’d only touched down their ship moments ago. Now the enemy would seize their only means of getting off Earth again.
This was it. There was no turning back. Their time to change everything had come.
“We knew this would happen!” he yelled.
“Yeah! But we didn’t think through how scary this was gonna turn out!” grumbled Anderson, slowing to wait on them catching up. “Are we really gonna let them take us?! They’ll mess with our heads! I prefer plan B!”
They found their way out of the corn and into a wooden barn. When they were safely inside, with the door shut tight behind them, Jack and Claudia slouched with bated breath.
“That’s because plan B was your plan!”
“Exactly,” said Anderson, standing up straight with his hands on his hips. The only sign that he’d been running at all was the sweat on his forehead. “I still think it’s the right choice.”
“You’re really gonna start this crap with me now?” blared Jack.
“I don’t want those freaky things near me!” he yelled, pointing angrily at the dusty floor.
“Me either,” said Jack, thinking of their long, pale, and prodding fingers. Their jet-black eyes, and big round heads. “I hate those little grey bastards. But we’ve gotta do it this way. We need to let them inside of our heads…so that he can get inside of theirs.”
“We don’t know for sure if he’s even ready to take one of them on,” snapped Anderson. “Their minds are strong.”
“Look…we’ve already started this…”
“It’s not too late. We can take one ship, even if we are on the ground.”
Claudia had taken to watching outside through a dusty window. “He’s right. It’ll be hard. But it won’t be impossible.”
Jack holstered his weapon. “This was his idea, guys. He’s thought this through,” he assured them with belief, thinking of their fellow crew member. “I trust him.”
Anderson tightened his jaw. Then he kicked at the floor. “Damn, so do I – I just wish this plan didn’t involve us getting caught!”
Claudia got alert, seeing something out the window. She came toward them in a hurry. “Fight or surrender? You’ve got three seconds to decide!”
Jack and Anderson shot each other looks. Neither of them was a coward. They’d fought against bigger odds and won in the past. But to give up your arms and go willingly, to allow yourself to be disarmed, taken prisoner – it’s not something that’s done lightly.
Anderson looked back to her and gave an agitated shake of the head whilst eyeing her gun. Claudia holstered her weapon.
A mere second later, the door swung open with a wildly powerful gust and it crashed into the wall.
A blinding flash filled the gap…
14
Jack found himself in a glass cell – the unbreakable kind, he assumed – with yellow padding on the floor. His face into it, his cheek stuck with a crust of drool, when he woke up.
His head felt heavy, muddled. He propped himself up on his forearm and looked around in the process of rubbing away a headache. He was in a facility of some kind, with stone walls and floors.
That was when he noticed he was wearing a dark jumpsuit. They took his clothes, his gun, even his earpiece.
Jack sat up groggily. A memory slashed his vision. A dozen sets of jet-black eyes looking down at him. He held his head, tried to figure out what was going on. Where the hell am I? This sure as hell doesn’t look like the interior of a spaceship!
He hoped he had some time here, as he still wasn’t thinking clearly. That flash grenade they’d used, the concussive force of it left him feeling like he was enduring a rough hangover.
Exhausted, he got up and pulled himself onto the bed. “They could’ve at least put me onto the damn bed, instead of chucking me on the floor,” he moaned, with no one to hear his complaint.
Jack shut his eyes. Just as he was about to feel grateful that he could rest, he heard something – a release of air. The door to his room hissed open.
Two armed marines came stepping in.
"Howdy,” he said, his eyes squinted in disbelief at the two human visitors. He hadn’t expected humans.
They stood up straight before him, eyes ahead.
“Mr Murphy, come with us,” said the sternest of them. He was pasty white and bald.
“Commander Murphy,” he corrected. “Where exactly are you taking me?”
“Just get up. Come with us, right now,” said the other marine, a much younger black guy.
They both wore caps and held assault rifles. Side-arms were holstered at their hips. He learnt a long time ago to evaluate his situation, to spot weapons as casually as someone might notice the colour of another’s eyes when they first met.
They were both tall and strong, and each had at least ten pounds on him. A scuffle wasn’t an option. Jack sat up giving a huff.
“Sorry. Just trying to make a little conversation. You’re the first Earthlings I’ve talked to in year
s. Well, aside from my crew, of course. I’m sure you’ve guessed that by now.” He was making his way to the door, and one went ahead of him, the other behind him. “Say, how long have I been here? And another thing, how did you know my name?”
“We’re not authorised to speak to you,” answered the bald white guy at the front.
He was led to a square room down the corridor with a tall black door. Inside, there was a table and two chairs. They sat him down on the chair facing the door. Then they stood silently in the corners of the room at his back. Jack felt unease coil in his gut as he waited. What the hell is going on here?
He looked around at the bright interrogation room with the black wall panels. It was all very sleek. “You know, it’s good to be home. But, I gotta admit, I didn’t expect it to go like this. Then again…I’m not sure what I was expecting.” That’s it. I’m playing along. “Certainly not a fanfare. Let’s just hope it keeps being this fun. Let me guess, you think I’m an alien?”
“We aren’t authorised to speak with you, Mr Murphy. The Agent will be along in a moment,” the black guy guarding his right shoulder said with finality. Jack accepted his grunt status with a nod. He’d dealt with a lot of military men in his time out there.
“Fair enough.”
When the door opened, and a woman stepped inside, Jack found himself wishing she’d been hot, after some cursory examination. But she was pale and wrinkled, like an Adams’ family member, with straight dark hair trimming her neck.
She wore a dark suit jacket and skirt, with professional heels that prodded the ground as she came to take her seat in front of him.
“I was expecting to meet with a committee or something. But they’ve stuck me in here with you, Larry and Moe. I gotta admit…that’s a little disconcerting. Who are you?”
“My name isn’t important,” she replied, and her voice was chill as a November rain.
“Um. Okay. So…what do you do?”
“I have several fields of expertise, Mr Murphy. But that’s not important, either, right now. What is important, is that I am here to listen to what you have to say.”
“Well, you found our ship, I’m sure. You know where I came from. So, you want me to tell you about outer space, is that it?”