Dex eyed her warily. ‘There may be some monetary compensation involved, yes…’
‘Then count me in.’
He almost spat his beer—which would have been a heck of a trick, considering he wasn’t drinking one. Not right then, anyway. ‘Excuse you?!’
‘Look, you said so yourself; we’re a team now. Teams do things together. And you can keep up this lone-wolf act as long as you want, but I know deep down you’re just as lonely as the two of us.’
‘Lonely?’ He scoffed. ‘Please. How can I be lonely? I have Bif.’
‘Dex—it’s okay,’ she went on. ‘You don’t have to put up a front for us. Besides, I’ve seen that doll you keep in your quarters. Seen all the, uh, stains…’
He threw up his hands. ‘Okay! Okay! Jeez, you just don’t give up, do you?’ He turned to me. ‘How about it, Bif? Up for one last adventure?’
I stared at him.
Another adventure, you ask? Why, sure! I mean, it’s not like I’ve nearly been eaten to death—by a variety of strange and ridiculous creatures at this point. Sign me up!
I opened my mouth to tell him that, no, I in fact absolutely did not want to go on another adventure with him, not now, not ever. Like the old saying goes, fool me once…
But then I saw the lonely, somewhat hopeful look in his eyes. I’ve never been good with emotions. And besides, it wasn’t like I had anything pressing to go back to—certainly not Elk Grove, with its plethora of small-minded, nihilistic residents.
‘Maybe just the one more…’ I said.
What happened next was but a blur.
With a speed you’d have thought impossible for someone so perpetually drunk, Dex danced over and threw his arms around me, never mind the fact he hadn’t showered in what had to be a solid week (although, technically speaking, neither had I). ‘Yes! This is going to be so awesome, Bif! You wait! Just you wait!’ He threw a glance at Luna, who was in the process of trying to slip away unnoticed. ‘And you! Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you! Get over here, partner!’
She tried to decline, but then he was grabbing her by the arm and roping her in also.
And that’s how we stood for the next few minutes, standing there on the sand, next to a half-buried ship that didn’t look like it would even hold together for much longer, let alone fly.
He stepped back and looked us over. ‘Man, look at us. The Three Amigos. The Three Musketeers. This is going to be so fun!’
‘HOW DO YOU KNOW THESE REFERENCES?!’ I cried.
He turned back to Steve. ‘Come on, gang; last one inside has to clean my jockstrap. And FYI, I am not wearing a jockstrap.’
We hurried to the ship.
8
We shot across space like a ping pong ball blasted out of a Bangkok hooker’s twinkle cave.
On the way, Dex explained more about his mission.
‘It’s a conspiracy, Bif,’ he said, leaning across the table at me one afternoon. We were in Steve’s “canteen” area; essentially just a small, dimly lit room, occupied by one large table, a half a dozen vending machine-style apparatuses pushed up against the side, as well as a vintage 1980s Japanese Pac-Man machine. This last he’d won in a bet, supposedly. Like with his constant use of popular movie quotes (not to mention his Dr. Marten boots and uncanny knowledge of beloved ’80s classics), it was but another of the many things about Dex I found too improbable to inquire about.
‘All across the quadrant, detectives like myself are being taken out,’ he said. ‘Assassinated. Almost as if somebody’s trying to get us out of the way.’
‘Out of the way—for what?’
‘Well, see, that’s the question. Detectives out here aren’t like they are back on Earth, Bif. They’re renowned, revered for being the best of the best. You don’t mess with the Private Dick—ergo why murdering one of us is such a big deal. Several of us in the space of a few months?’ He shook his head. ‘Something big is definitely going down. And whatever it is, you can bet it’s got something to do with this Lord Chancellor business.’
Personally, I didn’t see the connection. But then, I guessed that’s why I wasn’t the detective.
‘But, wait,’ I said, leaning forward. ‘If delivering this message is so important, can’t we, like, just call the guy? Why the delivering in person?’
He shook his head. ‘Too risky. We can’t have anybody else finding out about the contents of this note. If the wrong people were to get word, it could exacerbate matters. It’s dog-eat-dog out here, Biffy boy. Always some low-life looking to score who wouldn’t think twice about murdering somebody else in the process. When it comes to credits, out here, everyone’s a gun for hire.’ He thought it over. ‘Also, we wouldn’t get paid. So there’s that, too.’
There was more talk of this variety in the days that followed, more attempts from Dex to further impress upon us the sheer seriousness of our mission. In the interim while we waited to arrive, we tried to keep ourselves busy as best we could; swapping tales; playing Flib-flarb (essentially space’s version of Guess Who?); or, as in most occasions, simply by watching movies. Turns out even in the furthest reaches of space, cable is still a thing. At least now I knew where all the movie references had come from—even if the fact did make me want to pull my hair out, strand by painful strand.
And you want to know the funny thing? I actually found myself enjoying it. Space. Steve. Heck, even Dex, with his blatant drinking problem, and his penchant for constantly putting himself (and therefore, us) in danger. True, I knew there was a good chance I was simply going mad, all I’d experienced thus far having popped the cork on the bottle that was my fragile mind. Or maybe it was just Stockholm Syndrome finally kicking in, who knows?
All I can tell you is that, while I had never been further away from Elk Grove before, for whatever reason, and for what was possibly the first time since my folks had passed… I felt at home.
It was on the twelfth day that we finally arrived at Etaria.
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting to find once we got there. So far, my experience of space was a prison planet where the “people” living there wanted to eat me (or worse), and a planet made almost entirely of sand, where the creatures living there, similarly, also wanted to eat me. Call me crazy, but that kind of thing leaves an impression on a man.
Thankfully, this was nothing like those.
It was a city—though, granted, not like any city you’ve probably ever seen before. As far as the eye could see, huge, towering structures penetrated the sky, all connected by an intricate network of catwalks and walkways. On the sides of them, moving billboards the size of houses offered greetings—these in the form of an octopus-shaped woman, whose number of arms were only outdone by the absurd amount of breasts she had.
WELCOME TO ETARIA, THE GALAXY’S NUMBER ONE SPACE PORT! Octopus Lady said. GOT SOME TRADING TO DO? NEED A BOUNTY PUT ON SOMEONE’S HEAD? THEN YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE!
I stared through the cargo bay window at it all, my mouth open. True, it was too early to know if people were going to try and eat me. I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case, however.
‘Holy cow…’ I said, staring through the loading bay window at all the ships whizzing by. I flinched as one not too different from our own shot suddenly past the window, making me gasp—jumping the cue, by the looks of it. So apparently no matter where in the universe you were, jerk drivers were still a thing.
‘Pretty neat, huh?’ said Luna from beside me. ‘You know, a lot of folks think of Etaria as the nexus of the galaxy. I guess you really can’t blame them.’
‘What’s that down there?’ I said, pointing below the catwalks and walkways. Some dark, foggy area. It was too far away to see clearly, but I could just make out the faintest hint of lights, and what I thought might have been people.
‘The Gutter. Place where all the planet’s “undesirables” hang out. Lot of folks come here with the intention of making it big time, getting rich. Get sucked in by it all inst
ead, all the pretty lights. Before they know it, they’re strung out on Krunk, pulling all kinds of tricks to get by.’
‘We have a place like that back home,’ I said. ‘It’s called Hollywood.’
‘Oh yeah?’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, let’s just say it’s not exactly the kind of place you want to find yourself.’
We followed the line of ships until, twenty minutes or so later, we were setting down on a wide platform filled to the brim with myriad other ships and vehicles (I have to say, though, ours was by far the crappiest—or maybe I’m just bias).
Stepping outside, we were met almost immediately by a small, hunched creature, about the size of your typical midget, its body—what little we could see peeking out from beneath its tattered overalls, anyway—absolutely covered in coarse dark fur. Pair of bulbous black growths for eyes. A band on his arm read PORT AUTHORITY.
He nodded behind us. ‘That your vehicle, sir?’
‘What—that?’ said Dex, looking back. ‘Pretty sweet, huh? Won her in a bet. I call her “the Starship Enterprise”.’
‘You can’t park there. That there’s for high tier only.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I said you can’t park—’
‘Who?’
‘You’re going to have to—’
‘When?’
Furry Dude let out a long sigh. ‘You know what? I don’t get paid enough for this. Just go. I don’t care.’
We quickly made our way out of the docking area, pretending as we did so not to see the look of outright despair on Furry Guy’s face, stepping now into an area filled on every side by what looked to be, for lack of a better word, “stores”.
I don’t want to use the term “space mall” here, but if I’m honest it’s about as close as I’m going to get to describing to you exactly what it was we saw.
All along the walkway, doorways with huge neon signs led the charge, each sign growing larger and more garish the further along we walked, almost as if they were competing with each other (which, thinking about it now, they probably were). Smells floated in and out of my nostrils, most pleasant, like food frying. I thought I could hear music, and sure enough, looking up saw a five-piece band standing on the catwalk above us, banging on the ground with their tentacle arms. Every once in a while, a plume of gas would erupt from one of the many vents in the ground by our feet, making me jump. All the while, an endless procession of “people” flooded steadily past, all of varying shape, and—if their clothes were any indication—social status (though, again, “people” was probably stretching it a little).
I stared around at it all, amazed.
Man, it’s like a shanty town on steroids.
I let out a startled yelp as a creature with skin all pink and stretched out like taffy darted out of the shadows towards us, juggling little green creatures between its many hands.
I turned to Dex. ‘Where are we?’
‘People call it the Walk. It’s where a lot of Etaria’s trading takes place. Can find some pretty crazy things here, if you know where to look, some of which aren’t strictly speaking “legal”—or at least, that’s the rumor. Of course, I wouldn’t know, what being the upstanding gentlemen I am and all.’ He paused as a withered-looking alien with limbs like twigs caught its foot in a floor grate and went sprawling to the ground. ‘HAHAHAHA—look at that loser! See that, Bif? Dude went freakin’ flying.’
Real upstanding gentleman, all right…
‘But seriously, you’re going to want to be on your guard,’ he went on. ‘Some pretty shady characters around here. Give ’em half a chance, and they’ll steal the clothes right off your back. Hell, a small guy like you?’ He shook his head. ‘They’d eat you for dinner.’
As if right on cue, a creature the size of a small building waddled up to us, huge gut jutting out in front of it as it walked.
It gestured at me with one meaty hand. ‘THIS ONE. I WANT IT. HOW MUCH FOR—’
Dex shot it in the face.
I recoiled back as blood the color of mustard began to rain down on me, shock and horror coursing through my body like electricity.
I held my hands out in front of me. ‘What—Jesus Christ, Dex!’
Dex jumped up onto a table. ‘EVERYBODY! IF I COULD PLEASE HAVE YOUR ATTENTION FOR A MOMENT.’ He gestured at me with the blaster. ‘SEE THIS EARTHLING HERE? HIS NAME IS BIF, AND HE IS MINE. ANYBODY ELSE TRIES TO MAKE A GRAB FOR HIM, I WILL SHOOT YOU IN THE SHNORKING SOUL. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. DO NOT END UP LIKE OUR FRIEND OVER HERE. TRUST ME, YOU DON’T WANT NONE OF THIS.’
I shot a look around at Luna, hoping she’d maybe step in and say something, be the responsible adult the situation so clearly needed, but she just held a palm up to her forehead, evidently not wanting any part in current proceedings. I didn’t blame her.
Dex finished bellowing and jumped down from the table.
I stared at him. ‘Dude!’
‘Hmm?’
‘You just murdered that guy!’
‘Who, him?’ he said, pointing at what remained of Big Guy. ‘Relax; his head will grow back.’ He paused. ‘At least, I think it will—and besides, I had to make an impression, didn’t I? There’s a hierarchy at work here, Bif. If you don’t mark your place in the food chain, somebody else will.’
‘You are such an idiot,’ said Luna, shaking her head.
Dex winked. ‘Love you too, hon. But on a serious note, we should probably get going. I don’t want to speak too soon, but I think I may have totally just murdered that guy…’
We carried on down the walkway, me staring slack-jawed at all the crazy and wondrous things we passed; more weird creatures, many of whom seemingly embroiled in what I gathered to be fierce trade negotiations. And, of course, more tentacles. Man, there were tentacles everywhere. And people thought the cantina scene in Star Wars had freaky patronage? Give me a break.
When we finally emerged at the other end, we were standing in a city square.
A moment ago I’d thought the Walk, with all its many curious stores and visitors, to be about the most amazing thing I had ever seen.
But of course, that was before I’d seen the square.
Once when I was very young, my mother and I had taken a trip to New York City to visit family. We’d spent the majority of time shopping and seeing shows (as you do), but on the last day before heading back we’d gone to Times Square—literally only so we could tick it off the list. I was all shopped out by that point, but the second we had arrived I’d felt myself come alive again at the sight of all those huge buildings, with all their shiny billboards and slogans.
And that was exactly what came to mind now.
Huge spire-shaped buildings stood as far as the eye could see, all covered head to toe in more of those moving billboards like the ones we’d witnessed upon first arriving. Ahead of us in the street, vehicles I got the curious impression to be taxis whizzed steadily past—only these taxis had no wheels, and floated a good foot off the ground.
So they were hover taxis. Of course they were.
In the center of the square, flat and somehow authoritarian-looking, stood a single cone-shaped building made out of what looked like pure glass and chrome—what I gathered instinctively to be the citadel, or “council chambers” Dex had told me about back aboard Steve (though to be honest, those huge letters down the side kind of gave it away).
I pointed at a building to our right; this one boasting a large glass marquee above its entrance, where many of Etaria’s visitors seemed to be flocking in droves. Above the entrance, a holographic image of what looked to be some kind of large, volomptuous fly-creature was holding out a banana and repeatedly punching it. The banana moaned sensually with each hit.
‘What’s that?’
‘Oh, that?’ said Luna. ‘That’s, uh…’ She caught herself. ‘You know what? Never mind. You don’t want to go in there.’
When she was out of earshot, Dex leaned in close to me. ‘FYI, you totally want to go in there, Bif. Ain’t
no bananas in there, if you know what I’m saying…’ And he shot me a knowing wink.
After I was done throwing up in my mouth, I took another glance at the scene around me.
I couldn’t believe we were finally here. The whole time riding in Steve, Etaria was just an idea. A notion. But now that we were actually here, standing in front of the citadel, about to deliver a warning to the Lord Chancellor and save the day… it was almost too much to process. I thought of how far we’d come, all that we’d accomplished, felt an unusual and totally unexpected sense of pride swelling inside of me. For the first time since this whole adventure began, I wondered if going back to Elk Grove was such a great idea, after all. I mean, sure, the getting shot at would probably take some getting used to. As would the constant near-death experiences.
I thought I could work around it, though.
‘We did it, Dex,’ I said, my words coming out almost lost in the ruckus of creatures passing. ‘We made it.’
‘We certainly did, amigo. And I couldn’t have done it without you. You can be my wingman any time.’
‘Please stop.’
‘Know what I think?’ he said. ‘I think it’s time for a celebratory drink—what do you say?’
‘Now?’ Not that I couldn’t use a beer, of course. But still. We’d come all this way. ‘Shouldn’t we be, like, getting this message to the chancellor guy or whatever?’
‘Uh-huh—and we will. But we’re here now. No need to rush things. Besides, there’s always time for beer, am I right?’ He began to head towards one of the many bar-looking joints flanking us—
‘Dex Wexler!’
We spun toward the voice.
Dex Wexler: Space Detective (Chronicles of Bif Book 1) Page 8