Earth's Last Angel

by Leon Castle

  ‘Yes, Captain.’

  ‘So, you’re bringing your girl, with you, Captain. I hope she’s not a nagger.’

  ‘Oh yeah, the best,’ says Val, knowing Soodie is stirring. ‘She’ll keep you lot in line.’

  ‘I heard she’s already stirred up a hornet’s nest by pulling some team members off their jobs.’

  ‘I probably shouldn’t have put so much pressure on them with the change of plans.’

  They step out of the elevator onto the entertainment deck, and Val nods absently at some people trying to catch his attention.

  ‘They just have to adapt, Val. It won’t be the only time plans are changed.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  Soodie is one of the few people in whom Val confides, having been mates from university. They met in Duelin, when Val was struggling with structural engineering, a subject necessary for a ship’s captain. Soodie, a foreign exchange student, offered to assist him. They became good friends and when the project began, Val offered the position of ship’s engineer to his friend. There was no-one he would have trusted more to be there from the beginning.

  They were passing a takeaway store and the aroma of steak and onions wafting out makes Val realize he hasn’t even eaten breakfast. ‘Mate, I’ve just got to get something to eat.’

  ‘Don’t eat there,’ says Soodie, with a dismissive wave. ‘I know where you will get the best chili con carne.’

  Val winces, but laughs. ‘It wasn’t Manuel who recommended it, was it?’

  ‘Ya,’ says Soodie, ‘he’s the head chef at The Fly Trap.’

  ‘Where else?’ says Val, dryly, ‘the last time I ate his chili, I almost lost my taste buds.’

  ‘He doesn’t put so much chili in now. Some guy threatened to slit his throat for him for saying it was mild.’

  ‘I’m surprised he was still able to talk to threaten,’ says Val, but he passes the steak shop and moves toward the hotel with Soodie.

  The old western saloon style doors swung open at their approach and Val sees the hotel was busy with crew at the bar, and young males and females at the pool tables. Some of the crew who see him give a casual salute. Bar staff bustle about serving, while the unmistakable odor of chili smothered other, less, pungent dishes. Val considers changing his mind about the chili when a dumpling of a Mazuban with a frill too large for his face bursts from the kitchen.

  ‘Hey Soodie, I was wondering when you would get here.’

  ‘Manny, have you poisoned anyone lately?’ Soodie uses Manuel’s nickname.

  Manny darts a glance around the room. ‘Shhh, do you want to ruin my reputation,’ he grins.

  ‘Manny, captain here wants mild, repeat, mild chili con carne.’

  ‘Well actually…’ Val begins, but Soodie shakes his head and waves away his protests. ‘No, my mate Manny here has to restore your faith in him. Don’t you, Manny?’

  ‘They don’t call me head chef for nothing,’ says Manny, with mock seriousness. ‘I cook you a feast.’

  ‘Could you add some bread and butter with that, please,’ asks Val.

  Manny rushes off, shaking his head and muttering, ‘bread and butter with chili con carne.’

  Soodie laughs and goes to the bar to buy a couple of beers.

  As Val waits, he notices the hotel walls have realistic fly sculptures swarming over them. Above the bar, a large Venus fly trap with exaggerated fang-like teeth holds a fly in its jaws. A notice on the wall reads, ‘Any bar flies remaining on these premises after 12pm will be fed to the fly trap.’ Val chuckles.

  Soodie returns with the beers. ‘What?’ he says, handing a beer to Val. Val points to the fly trap.

  ‘Oh that. If the fly had any sense it would feed the trap some chili.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound promising, mate,’ says Val, but he laughs despite the rumbling and a gnawing hunger pang growing in his stomach. He saw bags of peanuts at the bar and is considering buying some when Manny arrives with a steaming plate. He places it on the table with an exaggerated flourish and a bow.

  ‘Chili con carne for captain,’ backs off and returned to the kitchen.

  Val looks at Soodie uncertainly, and has a fork of food half way to his mouth when he paused.

  ‘Oh, don’t be a wimp. Just eat it. Manny really is a great chef.’

  Val pushes the food into his mouth, reaching for the reassuring slice of bread. As he tentatively chews the first mouthful, a young shuttle pilot brushes past the table, carrying a round of beers. His jacket catches the edge of Val’s plate and flips it onto his lap. Val jumps up and wipes off the hot food with his napkin. The young shuttle pilot just stands there, flushed with embarrassment, the beer jugs still in his hands.

  ‘Frank, don’t just stand there,’ yells a female, ‘help him!’

  ‘Captain, detecting distress in your bio form. Is assistance required?’ asks Nolack-1.

  ‘No Nolack-1,’ says Val, as globules of mince and beans drip off him.

  ‘How?’ asks Frank.

  The young female grabs the two jugs from Frank and tosses the beer at Val’s legs. ‘You’ll have to get those trousers off, sir,’ she says to Val.

  ‘Calrok,’ hisses Frank, ‘he’s the captain.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t talking about him stripping here, was I?’ His friend there can take him to the men’s room.’ She points to Soodie, whose expression is a mixture of concern and amusement.

  Val, his sense of reason restored, regains control of the situation. ‘I can take myself there, thank you, Calrok,’ he says, trying to pull his trousers away from his legs as he walks. She followed him to the door of the men’s room and he glances at her before opening the door. ‘I appreciate you acting so quickly to prevent my legs being burnt. If you could do just one more thing?’ he asks.

  She waited expectantly. ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Would you ask my friend to go to my apartment and get me a fresh pair of trousers?’

  ‘No problem,’ replies Calrok and she rushes off.

  Nolack-1 chimes in. ‘Captain, update on ship’s progress.’

  Chapter 37

  Tom looks around as he waits at Murple Bubbles. The décor is obviously Gene. Painted in swirls of pink, yellow, blue, and green but with an emphasis on purple, it is very much a creative person’s café. Outside, the tables are separated by large pots of red and pink geraniums. Gene’s surreal artwork is arranged on a feature wall, adding to the mass of colors and shapes.

  A waitress approaches Tom she isn’t as pretty as Sofia but she has something about her, an aura, a confidence, he didn’t know what it was but she piqued his curiosity.

  ‘What would you like, sir?’ she asks, projecting the electronic menu from her bracelet. Its screen expands to the size of a bulletin board to allow Tom to scroll through and place an order, which will then be electronically relayed to the kitchen.

  Tom ignores the menu. ‘I would like you to accompany me to dinner,’ he says smoothly, not normally Tom’s style but he obeys the impulse.

  ‘Retract,’ she says and the screen returns to her bracelet. She regards Tom, coolly. ‘Really? I don’t even know who you are. Why would I go out with you?’

  ‘I’m Tom, the captain’s son.’ a little embarrassed, not wanting to use his status as leverage but doing it anyway.

  ‘Ah, the captain’s son.’ She smiles, takes a notebook from her pocket and writes on the back page. Tearing it out, the waitress places it on the table in front of him.

  ‘Excuse me, please, Tom, I have customers to serve,’ she says before moving on to another table.

  Tom picks up the paper and reads the fine scrawl: ‘Please don’t ask me out on a date while I am working. Meet me here at 5pm sharp, Melissa.’

  Tom winces and sticks the note in his pocket. He looks across the café at her but she is busy serving other customers. ‘I must be losing my touch,’ he thinks. ‘Was I too slick?’

  Gene returns and sits down. ‘What’s wrong, Tom?’ she asks.

  He
pulls the note out and shows her. Gene smiles. ‘Oh, is that all? Melissa gets asked out all the time.’

  ‘Why didn’t she just give me her number?’

  ‘This is not Sofia. Melissa’s not the type to sit and wait for a call. If you’re interested just be here on time.’

  Tom looks doubtful. ‘I don’t know. She didn’t seem all that interested.’

  ‘If she wasn’t, you wouldn’t have that,’ says Gene, pointing to the note Tom is rubbing between his fingers.

  Tom smiles, ‘Thanks, Gene.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ she says, ‘I’ll go chase up a couple of coffees for us since you are otherwise occupied.’

  He smiles sheepishly. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

  Tom wants to tell her how much he had wanted her to stay over the years. No, that would freak her out. Aunt Gene didn’t want anyone too close to her. He remembers how in earlier years, when his mother was still alive, her little sister Gene would turn up on the doorstep without any notice and entertain them with her adventure stories, and then, just as he was beginning to feel close to her, she would leave without a word. Tom would be upset at first, then angry, vowing to ignore her the next time she arrived, but over time he would forget and then she would be back again.

  He did learn a level of detachment over the years but still held hope that one day she would be tired of her travels and stay, especially after his mother died and his father was too lost for such a long time to notice that his son felt the loss, too.

  Tom is so immersed in his thoughts that he is startled when two coffees are placed on the table and Gene is sitting opposite him.

  Almost reading his mind, she smiles at him. ‘So, we’re on this one together.’

  Tom lifts his cup to cover his surprise. He smiles back. ‘Yes, so we are.’

  Chapter 38

  Ven is attaching the hoses to the alkaline tank when Mondok arrives. He stands by the tank and watches curiously for a moment without speaking.

  ‘How’s it all going?’ he says, finally.

  Ven hooks up the final hose to the conduit. ‘Good. The sensors were totally fried but they’ve been removed, and I’ve called Deklin in to fix the cable.’

  ‘So what are you doing here then?’ he asks, motioning to the tank.

  ‘This is the flush,’ says Ven, wondering where Denise is but not daring to ask.

  ‘I’m helping you today,’ says Mondok, as if he had read his mind. ‘I told Denise to go have a bit of fun. Get a frill color, all that girlie stuff, you know,’ he says, with a wink.

  Ven resists the urge to laugh. Denise doing girlie stuff. He couldn’t see it. It was more likely she was at the lake trying out her new dive gear, but Mondok seems in a good mood so he just nods. ‘There’s not much left to do here now, Mondok, but you can flick the switch to start this.’

  ‘Cripes mate, did you do this all on your own?’

  ‘No, Grasshopper and Mikey just left. I talked them into helping. There, Mondok,’ he says pointing to the switch on the display panel. Mondok presses it. It surges into action immediately and the muddy looking membrane swirls through the tank.

  ‘How long does this take?’

  ‘Not long,’ Ven says, ‘the display panel will let us know when it’s finished.’

  ‘Well, PV 012 still needs doing,’ says Mondok.

  ‘No it doesn’t. I helped the guys finish that earlier. You might as well join Denise.’

  ‘What, and have my frills done?’

  Mondok looks so indignant that Ven laughs. ‘There’s nothing else to do here for now.’

  ‘Hey, why don’t you and I go down to the lake and do some fishing then?’

  Ven almost refuses, unable to see himself fishing with Mondok, but he reconsiders when he realizes Mondok is trying to show a more relaxed side. He nods. ‘Yeah, OK.’

  Mondok grins. ‘I’ll show you how it’s done, mate.’

  Later, Mondok leans back in the boat. They had sat for an hour waiting for a bite and he is irritated with Ven’s fidgeting.

  ‘Hey, do you think we should go in and get some food?’ Ven asks. ‘My growling stomach is probably scaring away the fish.’

  ‘No, no, there will be a bite soon.’

  ‘Mondok, the only biting going on is in my stomach.’

  Mondok pulls in his line, grumbling. ‘Didn’t your father teach you about patience?’

  ‘Yeah, but he also taught me not to be stubborn.’

  Mondok glowers at him but Ven is distracted. ‘Hey, there’s Denise.’

  Mondok looks where he is pointing and sees Denise lying on a lounge barge, reading a book.

  ‘Do you think we should go over?’ asks Ven.

  Now, Mondok wishes he was on his own, but he does want to talk to Denise. ‘OK, but quietly. I don’t want to scare her.’

  They dip the oars as gently as they can to prevent waves from alerting Denise to their presence. As they approach from behind her head, Ven suddenly scoops an oar full of water, flicking it over her head.

  Denise jumps up with a short cry and the book flies from her hand, landing in the water. ‘My book,’ she cries, reaching for it.

  Mondok tries to grab it but it sinks out of sight.

  ‘Damn,’ she says, ‘I had almost finished that.’ She glares at them. ‘What’s got into you two? You should have known better, Mondok. I expected more from someone in your position.’

  ‘Hey, it wasn’t me. Thank your delinquent friend for the prank,’ he glared at Ven, ‘What made you come up with such a juvenile idea?’

  ‘It was me,’ Ven admits. ‘I’m sorry, Denise.’

  ‘I don’t care whose idea it was. That was my favorite Julie bard and someone owes me a new one.’

  ‘I thought you were going to get your frills colored,’ says Mondok, trying in vain to change the subject.

  Denise stares at him, incensed. ‘I did go to the frill-dressers.’

  Mondok looks at her frills, soft colors framing her face, where they weren’t wet. ‘Oh, so you did. It looks lovely.’

  ‘Liar,’ says Denise and flicks the switch for the electro motor, leaving them behind in her wake.

  They watch her go and then row back in silence.

  ‘Fish and chips?’ Ven asks, as they pull up the boat.

  ‘Good idea,’ says Mondok, ‘your shout.’

  ‘Why? It was your idea to use oars.’

  ‘Because it’s going to cost me big time to fix this mess you made.’

  Ven begins to protest and then shrugs. ‘OK, I’ll buy,’ he agrees. ‘I’m sorry, Mondok.’

  Mondok shakes his head. ‘Don’t expect to go fishing with me again.’ They step into the elevator and ride up in silence.

  Chapter 39

  Tom whistles as he walks out of his apartment, and then assumes a casual saunter as he approaches the café.

  He is two stores from Murple Bubbles when he is ambushed. ‘Tom, could I have a word with you?’ asks Sofia.

  He is about to give her the brush off. Tell her anything to get to his date on time but a pang of guilt hits him. He had said he would call. He stops and waits while people push past him in their rush to get somewhere.

  ‘I just want to say I’m sorry for the argument last night,’ she says, ‘I was disappointed, that’s all.’

  Tom glances at Murple Bubbles café. Melissa would be there by now. He knows she will leave if he was late.

  ‘That’s alright,’ he says absently.

  ‘OK, that’s all I wanted to say,’ says Sofia, her voice faltering. She begins walking away, slowly at first then picking up pace. Tom almost calls her back but what could he say? If he didn’t go now, he’ll be late. He continues on to Murple Bubbles.

  Melissa is sitting at a table outside when he arrived.

  The red geraniums behind her accentuate the crisp white of her dress. She has let her frill out and the copper highlights shine in the light streaming from the café.

  ‘Hi,’ he says, still shaken by his mee
ting with Sofia.

  ‘Hi back,’ she replies, with barely contained amusement.

  ‘So, is there anywhere you want to go?’ he asks, kicking himself for not arranging something.

  ‘Away from work would be good,’ she says, looking back at the café.

  He nods. ‘Fair enough,’ giving her his arm.

  ‘Thank you,’ she says, obviously surprised by his courtesy.

  They watch shops, cafes, bars, and game parlors pass by as they stand on the travellator, the passenger conveyor belt that extends around the entire entertainment deck. Tom has not used it before now, it gives him the freedom to talk to Melissa without bumping into people.

  ‘So, have you been in town long?’ he asks with a cheeky grin.

  She laughs. ‘As long as you.’

  They fall silent, watching people caught up in the increasing activity around the popular venues.

  Tom thinks he sees Sofia in one of the shops and is glad they weren’t on foot. He doesn’t want another confrontation.

  He looks at Melissa and realizes that, in appearance, she and Sofia are opposites. Sofia is blonde frilled, tall, and has an athletic body, while Melissa is shorter and petite with copper brown frills. He guesses they will have different temperaments as well. He shakes his head. ‘Stop comparing them, he tells himself.’

  ‘Oh, here’s the elevator,’ Melissa says, as the glass tube comes into view.

  ‘You’re dumping me so soon?’ he asks, in mock dismay.

  ‘No, silly,’ she says giving him a shove, ‘I’ve been so busy I haven’t been down to the lake yet.’

  ‘Haven’t been to the lake? Well, we’ll have to remedy that right now.’ He ushers her into the capsule and watches her face as she gazes at the sights on the way down. The lacy ferns, white flowered wisteria and pink and purple bougainvillea that trail over the balconies captivate her.

  He directs her to a table under a weeping willow by the lake. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he says.

  He dashes over to the counter. ‘Macca, my old mate?’

  Macca just looks at him without answering at first. ‘What happened to Sofia?’