by Andy Remic
“What about the blood on your hand and shirt cuff, dickhead?” snapped Dex. Pegg was glaring up at him through watery eyes. Yeah, thought Dex. Tears of self-pity. Dex was hard. His eyes were hard. His lips were grim. If you committed a crime in his city then you paid the fucking price.
“I cut myself shaving!” wailed Pegg.
“Sure you did.”
The PUF squad burst in from three different directions at once, and Dex holstered his Techrim and walked away as they bound Pegg and kicked out his legs. He hit the ground with a grunt, and a MuttBag went over his head, putting out the lights.
Within thirty seconds, he’d left the building.
“You sure about this one?” growled Sergeant Sanders, chewing on his cigar.
“Sue me if I’m wrong,” said Dex, face hard as granite.
~ * ~
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
“What... now?”
“Yes!”
A pause.
“Really now? I mean, I haven’t finished packing...”
“Now, you flat-footed brain-skewered police-loving bureaucratic fuckwit.”
Dex frowned. “A little harsh,” he said.
“You deserve it,” glared Katrina, and threw a pillow at him.
Dex stood in his pyjamas, a half-packed case on the bed. Kat handed him the comm. Slowly, Dex hit dial.
It buzzed.
Don’t answer, don’t answer, please don’t answer, come on, you’ve just been in the shit, the last thing you really want to do tonight is answer the bloody comm phone...
There was a click.
“Hello?” whined a miserable voice.
“A-ha-ha-ha,” said Dex.
“Oh. It’s you.”
“Yeah. It’s me.” Dex observed Katrina out the corner of his eye, where she was frowning at him, practically with steam erupting from her ears. She stamped her foot. Actually stamped it. He turned his back on her. “Yeah. I, uh, I’ve called to apologise. About that little misunderstanding tonight. “
“Little misunderstanding? Tonight? Where you had me fucking arrested for murdering my own wife and her lover?”
“Er,” said Dex.
“I told you I cut myself shaving!”
Dex deflated. He admitted it. He felt like a dick.
“I admit it,” he said. “I feel like a dick.”
“And so you should! All the stuff we’ve been through, mate! I thought you were my friend. I thought we were like brothers!”
“We are, we are,” said Dex. “It’s just...”
“Go on.”
“I thought you broke the law,” he said, quietly. Dex heard Kat give a huff behind him and leave the room. That cheered him up a bit. He straightened his shoulders. “Look. I thought you’d chopped her up and buried her in the woods. You did just find her in a compromising, open-legged position...”
“I thought you’d know I could never do anything like that,” said Pegg.
“Yeah. Well. I apologise.”
“Your PUF boys broke my arm,” said Pegg.
“I’m sorry about that, as well. You must have...” “Fallen down the stairs. Yes. Right.” Pegg’s voice had become stiff and formal. “Your apology is accepted. I hope you have a good holiday.”
“Er. Right. Thank you.”
Pegg rung off. Dex sighed and put the comm to one side with a clack. He jumped when he realised Kat was standing right behind him. Damn, she could move quietly when she wanted to.
“You’re an idiot,” she said.
“I know,” he said.
“My brother!”
“I know,” he said.
“My own flesh and blood!”
“I thought he’d chopped her up, Kat. Come on. You’d have done the same.”
“No, I would have discovered the truth!”
“Okay. Okay. I admit it. I’m the Bad Man. Shoot me...”
“I will if you don’t get that packing done! We’re up at 5am.”
“Has daddy packed yet?” came a shout.
“Can we go out for pizza?”
“Japachinese!”
“Sucky Sushi!”
“Tentacle Soup!”
“Dogmeat Surprise!”
Kat glared at Dex. She punched him on the arm. He didn’t complain.
“What a day,” he muttered.
“Get packed,” she growled, but smiled a little, to show him she forgave him. Just a little bit. “We go to the Theme Planet tomorrow!”
~ * ~
CHAPTER TWO
THEME PLANET
The Shuttle’s alloy flanks and black glass gleamed violet and orange under errant sunbeams as the huge, cumbersome vehicle banked ten klicks above the Earth, and tiny jets erupted with hydrogen bursts as the passenger vehicle stabilised. Below, the mammoth ball of blue, scattered with cloud trails and weather cycles, turned with a slow, massive majesty, easing through Her Cycle, a generous host, a caring Mother, the Earth, Mother Earth, Home of Mankind and Cradle of Humanity.
Jets flared. The Shuttle’s nose dipped, and it began a carefully orchestrated descent to Earth’s specially built Theme Planet Landing Field, a huge building of black alloy and glass, where hundreds stood behind UV screens watching, cameras poised. Shuttle Watching, they called it, and the galaxyweb was filled with a million different photos of the same thing from hordes of enthusiasts.
Dexter Colls, Katrina, Molly and Toffee sat in the Waiting Lounge. Huge screens displayed the Shuttle’s glowing entry through Earth’s atmosphere and Toffee was visibly vibrating with excitement, hopping from one foot to the other, jigging and clenching/unclenching her fists. Even Molly, who was keen to find fault and gloom in practically every situation, was reasonably chatty and had a rapturous look on her dark, moody features.
The girls scuttled off to see the Shuttle coming in to land for real, and Dex stretched back, closing his eyes and rubbing his stubbled chin. But hell, it was nice not to shave for a change. Nice to wear scruffs instead of a uniform. Nice to chill out, baby. To avoid the psychopathic, axe-wielding murderers.
“You’re looking happy with yourself,” said Kat.
Dex shrugged and grinned. “I was just thinking how it’s incredibly astute of the authorities to search you at customs.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, every single time we go on holiday, they look at you and think, shit, look at that dodgy rum bitch. She must be carrying something illegal. So they search all your luggage and bags whilst me and the girls go and eat cakes. You’ve got to admit, it’s totally hilarious. Must be a genetic thing. “
“Rubbish!” she scowled. “What they really think is you’re the dodgy underhand bastard doing the smuggling, and that you’ve snuck it into either my case or my loose pants, and they’re looking for the evidence prior to busting your ass.”
“No,” said Dex. “No, no. That’s not what I see at all.”
Kat slapped his arm. “You’re a cheeky so-and-so.” Then she snuggled up close to him and yawned. “I can’t believe how early the alarm went off. I felt like I was going to puke. “
“You’re so lady-like and sophisticated, my sweet. What you going to chat about next? Toilet habits? Septic tanks? Severed fish heads?”
“Hey, bugger off! Whoever said I was ladylike? Conned you there, didn’t I, Dex my sweet?”
He reached down until their lips were nearly touching. “I still love you, chipmunk.”
“And so you should. I’m the best fish you’d ever catch on your tiny hook.”
They kissed for a long time, until Dex snorted a laugh. “Do you remember that time you took The Rabbit on holiday? Showed up on the luggage scanner like... well, like a big pink vibrator.”
“Shut up.”
“And they took it out of your case, and the damn thing went off like a firework! Sparks and everything! You had every damn idiot in the airport staring at you with flapping lips whilst the uniformed bureaucrats ran around with a sparking, fizzing, burning vibro think
ing it was a bomb about to fucking explode!” He laughed.
“Shut up.”
“Daddy! What are you talking about?”
“Toffee! We were talking about what a mad little nutcase you’re turning into.”
“Mummy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“What’s a mad little nutcase?”
“It’s what Daddy married. Now run along and fetch Molly, I’m sure they’ll be calling us over to passport control real soon.”
As Toffee disappeared, Dex rested his head back and closed his eyes. With his usual cynicism, he said, “Yeah. Right. Well, if we catch that Shuttle on time it’ll be a fucking first.” But Dex was wrong. The Shuttle was on time. And they boarded, to the second, at the time indicated on their glowing holo-tickets.
Theme Planet ran a perfect show.
Theme Planet prided itself in the art of perfection.
~ * ~
“Daddy, I can see the clouds!”
“No, sweetie, we haven’t taken off yet.”
“Can I have some Crispo Crisps?”
“No.”
“Cokey Cola?”
“No.”
“Spunky Spunk Chocolate?”
“Spun... What?”
“Spunky Spunk Chocolate, the Spunkiest Chocolate alive! It was all over Kiddy Kid Kid TV yesterday, ask Molly, Molly will tell you, won’t you Molly? Tell Daddy about the new Spunky Spunk Chocolate full of Spunky Spunk. It’s the next big thing. All the kids in school are eating it.”
Dex gritted his teeth and stared hard at Katrina. She gave a tight little smile. “So. You’ll be writing another letter of complaint to the GGC when we get home, dear?”
“Damn bloody right,” he muttered. “Talk about inappropriate. Is it me getting old and grumpy? Or is the world simply tumbling down a toilet into rat-shit?”
“A bit of both, my darling. Look, we’re going to the Theme Planet to relax. So start by relaxing now. Okay?”
“Hmmm,” said Dex, and put his Caterpillar Headphones into his ears. He gave a little shiver as the earpieces wriggled into his aural canals, but after the initial discomfort, they began delivering the soothing music of Mozart the Tenth (otherwise known as MozieX).
Time to relax. Time to relax. I know it’s time to relax, and I should put back my head and close my eyes and listen to the music. We’ll get to the hotel, settle in nicely, have a fine meal and an evening stroll on the beach. Back to the room, kids in bed, open a bottle of Chablis and wriggle under the soft covers for a cuddle and a giggle... just like old times, just like the best times, just like it used to be...
Katrina nudged him. “‘We’re getting ready to take off.”
Dex glanced right, and the kids were strapped in their seats, eyes shining. For once, for once, they weren’t jiggling, complaining or arguing. And that in itself was a minor miracle.
“We’re going to fly!” said Toffee, peering out of the Shuttle’s window. As the smallest, she sat closest to the porthole.
Molly peered past her. “Look. You can see the moon!”
“We’re going past the moon,” said Toffee.
“Flying up, up, up into space!” beamed Molly.
“Shush, now, you’ll make your father queasy,” said Katrina, stroking an errant hair from Molly’s forehead. “You know he doesn’t like flying.”
Dex felt both girls turn their eyes on him. Their joint gaze was more intensive than any psychotic military drill-instructor.
“You’re not afraid of flying, are you, daddy?” said Molly.
“Haha! Daddy’s ‘fraid of flying, Daddy’s ‘fraid of flying...”
“No I’m not,” said Dex, closing his eyes and picturing the chopper, out of control, careering round in violent circles, smoke and fire pluming and spitting from cracked engines as screams wailed and people screamed and he wrestled with the controls, face smudged with dirt, a bullet in one shoulder, another in his hip, his lifeblood pumping with every movement across his chilled clammy flesh as the screams of men, and women, and children echoed through his ears, through his head, echoed down long corridors all the way to a fiery frozen Eternity...
“No, I’m not,” he breathed.
“Girls, girls, shush, leave your father alone. He’s had a bad week.”
“Damn right,” he muttered, and felt the rumble of engines igniting deep within the bowels of the huge passenger Shuttle. Dex’s knuckles tightened that little bit more. He felt an odd throb from where the bullet had lodged in his hip. Gone now. Ten years gone. But hot, like it was still there, gnawing his flesh with tiny teeth. Mole Bullets, they called them. Used by happy terrorists the globe over. Once inside you, their teeth emerged and they started a slow burrow towards something deep and meaningful.
The Shuttle lifted smoothly from the blast-pad and Dex peered past his awe-struck daughters as the terminal fell away amongst sheets of vertical rain. There was a kick and they accelerated, the nose of the Shuttle lifting now as real power surged through motors and Molly and Toffee giggled, blissfully unaware of the billion micro-gallons of piped Shuttle-fuel bubbling beneath their sweet little backsides.
Dex shivered.
“Some Greebo Champagne, sir?” asked the stewardess.
Dex glanced up. Licked dry lips. “Go on then.”
Kat giggled and slapped his arm. “At least look excited. “
“Oh, I’m excited all right,” he said. Then added: I’m not bloody excited about paying for it all. But then, Dexter Colls, you always were a stingy, tight-fisted old bastard.
They clinked flutes and sipped Greebo Champagne, and watched London disappear amidst the clouds, then the clouds disappear amidst the swirl of the planet. And gradually, sequentially, the grey and blue turned to black filled with a billion billion pin-pricks of stars.
They left Earth behind.
They were on their way to Theme Planet.
~ * ~
“Daddy, can I sit on your knee?”
“Mmm?” Dex opened his eyes to see Molly staring at him earnestly. He yawned, and gave a nod. Outside the porthole, stars scrolled past and the thrum of the Shuttle’s engines was a rhythmic, relaxing constant.
“You okay, Pudding?”
“Don’t call me a pudding.”
She settled down like a bird trampling its nest. Dex grunted.
“Okay, then. Peanut?”
“I am not,” she pouted, close to him, “a peanut.”
“What can I do for you, Molly?” He smiled.
“I’d like to discuss our family holiday on the Theme Planet.”
Dex nodded, thinking, gods, but she’s growing up fast. It seems like only yesterday I was changing her nappies and using the ultra-modern Suck-o-Suck Poo Sucker & Scraper and Infant Cleansing Apparatus to perform the terrible deed. Now, here she is, eyes all serious, wishing to “discuss” things. Hot damn.
Dex grinned. “Of course, Miss Molly. I am here to discuss every single element of our wonderful family vacation. Where’s your mother?”
“Up ordering our lunch at the bar.”
“Hmm. Sure she is.”
“Listen Daddy, I’ve been thinking. I think we should visit every single area of the Theme Planet where we’re staying, and then, if we’ve exhausted that area, we should move on to the Red Zone.”
“You know we can’t go to the Red Zone, sweetie. They won’t allow Toffee on any of the rides. She’s too young.”
“But Daddy!”
“Wait, wait, back-up a minute, Molls. The Blue Zone is designed especially for a family like us. We’re staying in the Kool Kid Zone so that you and Toffee can have a real fun time. Then there’s Adventure Central a short zip tube ride away if I fancy indulging in some adventurous mountain climbing, or something.”
“Ooh, yes, I was reading about Adventure Central,” said Molly, and Dex caught that gleam in his daughter’s eye that so reminded him of Katrina. A wicked streak. A sense of danger and wild adventure that had no place belonging to an eight-year-old little lady
...
“Now wait a minute,” said Dex. “Adventure Central is for adults only. That’s the whole point. It’s dangerous. It’s full of adrenaline sport experiences, up in the Skycloud Mountains or on the Death Rapids, or out in the Lost Dunes. It’s not a place for children.”