Channel Blue

by Jay Martel

  ‘Contingencies are always incredibly expensive,’ Amanda said. ‘Especially cyberprobes. And the finale’s already trillions over budget—’

  ‘Mandy, GOD wants this to happen,’ Nick said, holding up his screen as a reminder. ‘Expense isn’t a consideration at this point. In a weird way, your little show might have sealed the deal. They figure what they’re going to lose on the finale they can make up in publicity for future episodes of Bunt to the Rescue.’

  Perry still couldn’t believe it. ‘How could GOD lie to me?’

  Nick frowned, confused. ‘Gerald O. Davidoff was here?’

  Amanda nodded and Nick looked crestfallen. ‘I missed him?’

  ‘He lied,’ Perry said.

  ‘You must be mistaken,’ Nick says. ‘GOD never lies – even his enemies know that. He’s the most successful entertainment executive in the galaxy for a reason: his word is good.’

  ‘It isn’t! He just told me I wouldn’t have to do the show anymore!’

  ‘On Earth,’ Amanda said.

  Nick nodded. ‘Yeah, that wasn’t a lie. They’re spinning you off.’

  ‘Spinning me off?’ Perry said.

  Nick shook his head impatiently. ‘You are so slow. That’s what this whole show on the moon is about: brand management. They’re creating a franchise that they can stick anywhere – the hapless-though-determined Earthle, his genetically superior gal pal, and, coming soon, their little POF. You’ll all try to rescue whatever planet they dump you on and the rest of the galaxy will watch.’

  Perry glared at the former boy executive, repulsed. ‘I won’t do it!’

  ‘Then they’ll drop you back on Earth and kill you with everyone else. Stick your sweetie here on some crappy asteroid and, when he’s old enough, use your son for a sequel.’

  Perry turned to Amanda. ‘Is this true? GOD would do that?’

  Amanda nodded grimly. ‘It’s a good plan.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t mean that I like it. It’s smart, though. Why settle for one series when you can have a franchise?’

  ‘That’s why he’s GOD,’ Nick said.

  Perry stood. ‘How can either of you talk about the merits of a plan to kill seven billion people?’

  ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Earthle,’ Nick said, his voice layered with contempt. ‘And you never have.’ The boy turned to Amanda. ‘Seriously. How do you deal with this imbecile?’

  ‘You little shit!’ Perry grabbed Nick, lifted him up and shook him violently.

  ‘Another genius move!’ Nick said, his high-pitched voice undulating with every shake. ‘Physically abusing the one person who can help you!’

  Perry dropped him onto the floor. ‘How can you help us?’

  Nick sat up, rearranging his clothes. ‘Leslie Satan has been tracking this situation closely. He has a solution, and he’s asked me to arrange a meeting.’

  Amanda laughed. ‘The press conference is in less than an hour!’

  Nick lowered his voice. ‘He’s coming here.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘To the moon. The man himself. We can’t waste any more time. Come with me.’ Nick fetched his red wig and glasses from the couch, put them on and opened the door. ‘Come on. It’s your only hope.’

  Within minutes, Nick, Perry and Amanda had slipped into rented spacesuits and were making their way through an airlock onto the surface of the moon. Strolling the lunar surface was considered a relaxing pastime among the residents of Base Station Blue, so there was nothing unusual about Perry and Amanda moonwalking with one of their young fans. They followed a marked path for ten minutes. When the path came to an end, Nick led them up a steep hill that turned out to be the edge of a crater.

  They followed the crater’s lip until a boulder the size of a palace blocked their path. Nick scurried around the boulder, followed by Perry and Amanda. On the other side of it, a long flat plain opened up, extending to a range of jagged mountains in the distance. Nick stopped and examined the screen he held in one gloved hand.

  ‘Now what?’ Amanda said over their helmet intercoms.

  Nick pointed up at a star. It took Perry a moment to realise that this star was rapidly growing and seemed to be approaching quickly. Very quickly. Within seconds, he could see that the star was in fact a motley collection of scuffed-up shipping containers hurtling through space. It slowed as it approached, belching jets of fire from its underside, and dropped down towards the moon’s surface, kicking up plumes of dust that showered onto Perry, Amanda and Nick until it hovered just above the lunar plain. The jets cut out and it smacked unceremoniously down onto the ground, where it shuddered like a beached whale, heaving and sputtering, emitting smoke and jets of orange liquid.

  Thus far, Perry had only been exposed to Edenite technology through hidden moon bases, streamlined devices, ruthlessly efficient robots and invisible flying elevators. He was transfixed by the sight of this heap burbling before him – it seemed less like a vision of the future than a rogue piece of space junk. After a few moments, one end of the craft dropped onto the ground, revealing an opening. Nick quickly marched towards it. Perry and Amanda exchanged a look, then followed.

  After they climbed through the opening into a small dirty chamber, the spaceship closed itself up. Jets of air hissed in around them. Nick took off his helmet and gloves and walked through two creaky sliding doors into a large, dimly lit cabin. Perry and Amanda took off their helmets and joined him.

  If a crazy old cat lady ever owned a spaceship, Perry thought, it might look like this. Piles of cans, printed material, electronic devices and what looked like spare engine parts filled a large cabin, all covered with nets or strapped to the floor with canvas belts. At one end of the cabin stood a few mismatched chairs on a faded carpet next to a wall of blinking lights and screens. A middle-aged woman in a bathrobe stood up from one of the chairs, a mug in her hand. ‘Anyone want something to drink?’ she said.

  Nick, Perry and Amanda shook their heads. ‘Suit yourselves,’ she said and approached a set of sliding doors. Only one of the doors opened, forcing her to scoot sideways through a narrow gap. A loud sneeze sounded and Perry’s eyes, adjusting to the dim light, now saw that there was someone else in the cabin. Ensconced deep in a worn leather lounger that had bits of yellow foam poking through its cracked brown carcase was an incredibly old man with an eye-patch, smoking a thin cigar. Even in the weak gravity of the moon, he seemed to be exerting a force of will just to maintain any semblance of verticality.

  ‘Please excuse the meagre surroundings.’ The old man spoke in a strained, wheezing voice. He laboriously pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his bathrobe and dabbed his nose. ‘We’ve never put much stock in the material plain. All our resources go directly into The Movement.’

  Amanda glared pre-emptively at Perry, who this time was able to stifle a laugh.

  ‘Mr Satan,’ Nick said. ‘It’s an honour to meet you.’

  The old man gawked at Nick as if he’d just dropped through the ceiling. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  Nick appeared flustered. ‘Nick Pythagorus. I’m your new agent on Earth.’

  ‘Oh,’ Leslie Satan said. ‘You’re rather small, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m nine years old.’

  ‘I see,’ Leslie Satan said. He dropped the thin cigar into a coffee cup and released another great sneeze, covering his mouth with one hand. He grunted and pulled away the hand, which now held a row of teeth. He glanced quickly at the teeth and placed them in the pocket of his bathrobe. ‘Damn moon dust. Always irritates my allergies.’

  ‘This is Amanda Mundo and Perry Bunt,’ Nick said. ‘You gave me the mission of producing them, and here they are.’

  ‘And so they are, so they are,’ said Leslie Satan. His one eye stared intently at Perry. ‘Perry Bunt.’

  Perry wasn’t sure what to do, so he nodded.

  Leslie Satan returned his nod. ‘Surprised to see that I don’t have horns and a tail? Earthles usual
ly are. Gerald’s little joke, giving Earth’s bogeyman my name.’ He continued to peer at Perry as if he were searching for something. ‘You look different on TV. More impressive.’ Before Perry could react, Leslie Satan sneezed again, launching something directly at him. Perry instinctively ducked and the object flew over his head, hit the wall and dropped to the deck of the ship with a small plop. He looked down and saw Leslie Satan’s nose.

  ‘Can you get that for me?’ the old man asked, his voice even stranger than usual, for he now had two slits in his face where his nose, until very recently, had resided. Perry, concealing his revulsion, reached down, delicately picked up the bulb of flesh and dropped it into the hand of its owner, who pocketed it.

  ‘Have you saved Earth yet? Of course you haven’t. Gerald would never let you. Never!’ Planting a metal cane carefully in front of him, Leslie Satan proceeded, with much gasping and grunting, to lift himself out of his chair, all the while continuing to speak. ‘Do you know why? Because that would demonstrate to the entire galaxy that a lowly product of fornication could somehow effect positive change. We couldn’t have that, could we? The whole universe might fall apart!’ With a final loud groan, Leslie Satan raised himself into a standing position. Perry realised that he’d been so transfixed by the old man’s struggle to get out of the chair that he hadn’t heard a single word he’d said.

  ‘Sit down here where I can get a better look at you.’ Leslie Satan patted a spotted hand on the distressed lounger. Perry obediently sat. The old man slowly tottered around it until he stood behind him. ‘I have none of my original organs. Some of them are third or fourth generation. Like this ship and The Movement itself, I am held together with nothing but hope in the form of a single vision.’

  Perry felt warm breath on his bald spot as the old man closely perused the top of his head. ‘I received a vision last year when a clogged transceiver steered us into a black hole. I’ve been trapped in several such singularities and have usually been disappointed. I know many people who have seen the future inside them. But not me – I’ve always just become constipated. Until this last time, when I actually did receive a vision of what is to come.’

  The old man was now poking through Perry’s thinning hair as if he was searching for something, a sensation that Perry found quite disconcerting. ‘I learned that one day, on some lowly planetainment – the vision didn’t bother to tell me which one – a product of fornication would rise up and lead all the galaxy’s POFs in a great war against the Edenites and their terror. The reason I’ve asked you here, Perry, is that I think you may be the One we’ve all been waiting for—’

  Leslie Satan folded Perry’s left ear forward and looked behind it. ‘But as it turns out, you are not. You can all go now. Sorry for the confusion.’ He pulled a stopper out of the wall and shouted into a small hole. ‘Doris! Prepare for lift-off!’

  Perry, Amanda and Nick all stared at the old man, confused.

  ‘Go ahead,’ said Leslie Satan, motioning with one hand. ‘The airlock will automatically close behind you.’ Perry stood, unsure of what to do. Leslie Satan now flailed his arm towards the airlock. ‘Come now, run along! I don’t want to give them too much of a chance to catch me, do I?’

  Amanda spoke first. ‘We were told you had a solution to our problem.’

  ‘If he had been the One,’ Leslie Satan said, pointing at Perry, ‘I would’ve helped him go back to Earth and save it. But he’s not, so there’s obviously no point.’

  ‘How do you know that he’s not?’

  ‘In the vision, I was told that the One would have a star-shaped birthmark on his scalp.’ He pointed at Perry. ‘He doesn’t have anything like that. Just a couple of moles – which you should have someone look at, by the way. Now please, I’m on a tight schedule.’

  Nick stepped over to the old man. ‘I can help you. I know their codes; I know their infrastructure. I can help you destroy Galaxy Entertainment.’

  Leslie Satan seemed exhausted by the very thought of this. ‘It’s hardly worth the time. Galaxy’s only the fifth largest entertainment conglomerate in the known universe. If it goes down, the others will assimilate its holdings and nothing will change.’

  ‘Please,’ Nick said. ‘Let me come with you.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Leslie Satan said. ‘I really don’t have the room.’

  His lower lip began to quiver, and Nick suddenly looked very much like the nine-year-old boy he was. ‘I don’t have anywhere to go! I was counting on you!’

  Leslie Satan raised a hand and, after a second, sneezed. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed the two slits in the middle of his face. Perry couldn’t help noticing that one of the old man’s ears had come loose and was dangling from the side of his head by a flap of skin. ‘You seem like a very nice little boy, but we just don’t have the thrust for additional passengers.’

  Perry had been trying to contain his irritation with Leslie Satan – after all, the old man seemed on the verge of sneezing himself into bits – but something about the lameness of this excuse pushed him over the edge. ‘Why don’t you get rid of some of this garbage?’ he said, gesturing to the piles around them. ‘And if you really love POFs so much, why not help us stop GOD from killing seven billion of them – even if I don’t have some lousy birthmark? What kind of movement is this, anyway?’

  The tiny, ancient, nose-less man seemed like he just wanted to take a nap.

  ‘Look,’ he rasped. ‘We have to pick our battles carefully. There’s no point in getting involved with Earth. Not only are all the inhabitants completely unaware of the forces controlling their lives, but I doubt they would be able to do anything about it if they did. I mean, normally I would fight on behalf of any people of random genetics, but the Earthles—’ He shook his head. ‘They’re impossible. I shouldn’t have to tell you. We all saw the show, by the way, which was great. I mean, truly hilarious. I am a fan.’ The old man’s face cracked into a toothless grin. ‘The more you tried to help them, the more they hurt you! So you know the situation. I’ve spent time down there. I’ve tried my best, but it’s no use. If I went down right now and tried to help them, they’d kill me, steal my spaceship and try to use it to kill their enemies. There’s just no point.’

  ‘But—’

  Amanda quieted Perry with a look and turned to the leader of the Movement. ‘Isn’t there anything you can do to help us?’

  The old man wearily considered this, then leaned over, pulled the stopper out of the wall and shouted into the hole. ‘Doris! Bring me two dischargers from the bridge closet! Make sure they’re full!’

  After a few moments, the middle-aged woman in the bathrobe shuffled back into the room carrying two shiny metal tubes with red pistol grips. She gave them to Leslie Satan who, grunting with effort, handed them to Amanda and Perry.

  ‘What are these for?’ Perry asked.

  ‘It’s the most powerful firearm we have,’ Leslie Satan replied. ‘With a little luck, you can use them to blow up the moon base before their bots take you out. Eventually, of course, they’ll come back here and finish you off, along with your planet, but it’ll buy you a little time anyway.’

  ‘What about me?’ Nick said. ‘Where’s my discharger?’

  ‘I don’t give guns to children,’ Leslie Satan said. ‘Now please, all of you, off my ship. There’s a massive rebellion on a CrazyPlanet near Corvus 9 and I’m running very late.’

  There seemed nothing left to say. Perry, Amanda and Nick turned and walked back to the airlock. When they’d almost reached the door, Nick suddenly darted behind one of the piles of refuse.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Amanda said.

  ‘I’m stowing away. When he’s stuck with me, he’ll realise how useful I am to The Movement.’ Nick’s eyes darted furtively. ‘You’ll give me away, keep going!’

  Perry glanced at Amanda, who nodded. The two of them stepped into the airlock and, after putting on their helmets and gloves, stepped through another hatch, down a r
amp and back onto the lunar surface. The fuselage closed quickly behind them and, almost before they could get out of its way, a column of fire lifted the strange craft away from the moon. They watched as it became a small glint of light among the stars and then disappeared.

  ‘I never thought Satan would be such a let-down,’ Perry said.

  Amanda brushed white dust off the visor of her helmet. ‘At least Nick isn’t our problem anymore.’

  Perry nodded. ‘There is that to be grateful for.’ He slipped one gloved hand around the pistol grip of the discharger. Despite his general distrust of guns, it felt good. Yes, he was still a product of fornication on a moon filled with smarter and more powerful enemies, but now he had firepower. Not that he had the slightest idea what to do with it. He looked at Amanda. ‘What now?’

  ‘I guess we go back to the base and blow it up,’ Amanda said. ‘We’ll certainly have the element of surprise on our side. Stars don’t usually show up at their press conferences with weapons.’

  Perry gazed intently at this relentlessly surprising woman. ‘Are you really up for this? Are we really going to kill Marty? And Vermy? And Elvis?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s the only way to stop them from ending Earth, right?’

  ‘I thought you didn’t believe in killing. That Edenites don’t murder each other.’

  ‘We don’t,’ Amanda said. She didn’t meet his gaze – she was busy examining her discharger. ‘It’s not something I’m comfortable with. I mean, I’ve never even seen one of these things before. But I know the people in that base and how they feel about us.’ Perry had never heard her group the two of them together before, which made him feel good despite the direness of their situation. ‘I know their attitude towards the talent. The only reason we haven’t died already is because we’ve helped the ratings. So why should we hesitate when our only hope of having a decent life is to kill them?’

  She shook her head, clearly amazed at the words coming out of her mouth. ‘I’m obviously seeing this quite differently now that I’m on the other side of the camera.’