“Swordfish.”
The man’s eyes opened wide and he giggled. “Come in, Alvin Baylor. Marx Brothers fans are always welcome.”
Alvin walked in to find Tosh and two others. They were playing a card game with miniature projections of army men running across a small table.
“Hey Alvin!” greeted Tosh.
Alvin walked over to them while studying the room. In the back was a work console and what looked like a small food printer.
“I thought the dining area would be bigger.”
“It is,” said the hawkish man. “I like to prepare my own Nutri-Paste. The mess hall never gets the consistency right.”
“I’m a stickler for texture, too,” said Alvin.
“Alvin, this is Yumi and Ravi and you’ve met Buzz,” said Tosh.
Alvin exchanged nods with Yumi, an energetic young woman who was more interested in the game board, and Ravi, a petite man with a dusky complexion topped by a bowl haircut. Ravi eyed him uncomfortably.
The hawkish young man walked over smiling and Alvin stuck out a hand.
“You’ve washed that thing I hope,” said Buzz.
“Many times.”
“Excellent,” Buzz said before returning the handshake.
They sat down at the table.
“Are you named after the astronaut?” asked Alvin.
“No. I like to hum frequencies,” said Buzz.
Alvin arched his eyebrow and nodded.
“We’re just finishing up a game,” said Tosh.
“So you’re part of the big secret on Dactyl?” said Ravi.
Tosh looked over at Ravi with a grimace.
“I’m not in on it, if that’s what you mean,” said Alvin. “I’m just a messenger. Why? What do you know about it?”
Ravi sat back. Tosh continued to stare at him disapprovingly. Buzz had a smile. His eyes darted from Alvin to Ravi.
“I know that you work for the company and they don’t want us to know jack shit about what they got up there.”
“Then we know the same things,” said Alvin.
Ravi looked irritated as Buzz and Tosh chuckled.
Yumi looked up at Alvin suspiciously. “You mean, you don’t know why you’re here?”
“No. I’m delivering something. I might help set it up, but I’m not sure.”
“See, it is a test,” said Ravi. He looked around at the table in search of approval.
“Rav thinks you’re deploying automation to replace us. Is that what’s up?” asked Yumi.
She chewed gum and seemed more intense in her aloofness than Ravi had been by being direct.
Toshiro leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Al. We don’t get many visitors. People have concerns.”
“It’s fine. I understand. I’m on this job because the company was in a bind. I don’t know the grand plan.”
“That sounds plausible,” started Buzz, “but your arrival is troubling to many of the crew.”
Toshiro rolled his eyes.
Buzz lifted an eyebrow at him and continued, “I took the liberty of researching you, Alvin. Do the rest of you know that he used to play on the league circuit with that creep Henry?”
“That true?” asked Yumi.
“Yes. And it’s also true that he’s a fucking creep. Listen, I’m just here doing what I’m told. I have no secret agenda or opinions about any of you.”
“Except Mr. Henry,” said Buzz.
“Yeah. Except that fucking guy,” said Alvin.
“I think this dude needs a toke,” said Yumi.
Alvin shook his head. “I’m on the job today. So . . . what’s the game?”
Buzz said, “A delightful little game called—”
“Domination!” said Yumi. “I win.”
A plane flew over the game board and dropped a bomb. A mushroom cloud sprang up and wiped all the other pieces away.
“You always win,” said Buzz. “Now get out of my bay and go eat your breakfast. I have work to do.”
She stuck out her tongue at him and stood up. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
“That’s because you smoked,” said Tosh. He gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Stay out of trouble, Alvin Baylor. We have no other fans of the Marx Brothers,” said Buzz.
Alvin nodded. “Why certainly,” he said in a Brooklyn accent.
“That’s the Stooges,” said Buzz as he closed the door.
Alvin chuckled and followed the three of them up the hall. It grew brighter and wider as they climbed the slope away from the operations area. The base was mostly graded circular ramps and dull metal hallways. Occasionally a bit of rock face was exposed. They passed only a few doors along the way.
The smell of metal and moisture dissipated as they arrived at an arched doorway. Beyond it the decking transitioned to a rubberized green surface that had recently been hosed down. Circular tables with attached molded seats sprang up like daisies around the room. Everything was a nauseating green. In the center of the room stood a Vend-A-Meal machine with one dispensing station. It was crowded with personnel who dragged ass through the place. Beckman approached looking alert in his dress grays.
“Mr. Baylor, I see you found your way here.”
“I had a little help.”
Beckman gave a severe look at Tosh, Yumi, and Ravi. They quickly walked away. So did everyone else. The ’roiders eyed Beckman but kept their distance as if he were a rock in the middle of a stream.
“So what’s on the menu?” Alvin pointed over to the dispensing station.
“We have it all. That machine will print a perfectly balanced meal with any recipe you choose,” said Beckman. “The company takes nutrition very seriously.”
“So do I, Jamie. I don’t mind telling you I take it very seriously,” said Alvin.
Beckman smiled awkwardly. “Come see me when you’re done eating. I don’t want you kept from your work.”
“Sure thing. Question: Have you received any messages for me from HQ?”
“Wouldn’t they contact you directly?”
“Yes, normally, of course. I was out of range for a period and I thought they might have made an effort.”
“Nothing, Mr. Baylor. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Alvin continued forward through the clusters of tray-bearing workers. Most eyed him. A few stood their ground and made him sidestep. He got in line and shambled forward with the group. The printers gave off a hot moist aroma like freshly baked bread. That was a pleasant surprise. The stuff he’d had on Earth was odorless. He felt a shove from behind that knocked him into the queue of ’roiders.
“We’re onto you, corpo,” said the man with a cog tattoo on his forehead. His beady red eyes made him look like a rat.
Alvin returned the glare, but didn’t make an expression. “Chickowski, right?”
“Don’t look at me, you corpo fuck. This job here is what I got and you ain’t taking it away.”
Alvin shook his head. “I’m not after your job. I’m after breakfast.”
Chickowski tapped his finger on Alvin’s chest and his red eyes opened wide.
The chow line curved into a circle with Alvin and the bald lunatic at the center.
This guy only understands crazy.
“Don’t fuck with me or I’ll eat you for breakfast,” said Alvin.
The line of ’roiders chattered with excitement.
“Chickowski! Knock it off!” a voice shouted over the crowd.
Beckman passed through the circle of men and broke up the confrontation. The observers went silent and scattered.
The rat-faced man skulked off grumbling under his breath. He pounded a fist into his other hand.
Beckman looked at Alvin’s angry face. “You good, Baylor?”
Alvin nodded.
Beckman stepped in close and whispered in his ear. “Then hurry up and eat. I don’t want a riot on my watch.”
He walked away through the parting crowd.
Alvin stared after the path he’d cleared. In the
distance, at one of the molded dinette stations, sat Carroll Henry with his arms crossed. Chickowski muttered something and sat down beside him. Beckman followed over to scold him. He got a few words out before Henry waved him off. Beckman straightened and left the room.
Alvin turned back around in line. A minute later he was up at the Vend-A-Meal. He ordered eggs Benedict and heard razzing from the guys behind him as they waited for his request to finish.
Fuck these assholes.
When the Nutri-Paste was done baking on the plate, a chime went off and Alvin snatched up the tray. He walked off in the direction opposite of Carroll Henry and looked for a seat. At the back of the room he saw Tosh and company. He went over and sat down with them.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” said Ravi as he abruptly left the table.
Alvin stared after him. Halfway across the room he looked back nervously.
“What’s his deal?” asked Alvin.
“Duh,” said Yumi.
“He’s afraid of being associated with you,” said Tosh.
“Henry pulls weight around here. He says you’re trouble,” said Yumi.
“I’m just passing through. Carroll Henry doesn’t know shit about what I’m doing here.”
“Hey, don’t kill the messenger or whatever. You wanted to know.”
Alvin pushed his food around on the plate. As it cooled it changed consistency and the seams where it had been molded into shape hardened into thin lines. The hollandaise sauce looked as rubbery as the floor. So did the eggs. He took a few bites. The food was tasteless. He looked around the room and saw sets of eyes dart away from his gaze. He choked down his anger with a bite of the eggs. After all that time hiding away, he’d finally gotten some appreciation on The Hope. Now he was back to remembering his shitty past and fending off looks of disapproval.
Fuck you, Henry.
He stood up with a scowl and looked across the room to his old coach. The man returned the glare. Alvin began walking.
“Uh, Al, where are you going?” asked Tosh.
Yumi’s mouth dropped open and she threw a hand over it in jest.
“I’m gonna clear the air,” he said.
He strode over with tunnel vision. Henry flopped his tousled white-gray hair and smiled with those buck teeth. Chickowski balled his fists. The tall brute with the goatee gripped his utensils. A face-scan gave his name as “Rodriguez.” Alvin stopped in front of the rounded table. He put his palms flat on it.
“You still got a fucking problem?” he spat.
“Hey, kid. Nice of you to come say hi,” said Henry.
“Enough bullshit. Don’t tell anymore lies about me. I’m not here to deal with you.”
“Seems you just can’t help yourself, then,” said Henry.
Rodriguez laughed. Chickowski licked his lips while rubbing his knuckles.
“I can fuck up anyone’s game. You know that, Carroll. Mind your own business.”
“This is my business. I’m shop steward. I worked very hard after what was taken from me. So yeah, I still got a fucking problem.”
“I’m here for the week. You keep your tweaked-out goons away from me and we’ll never share company again.”
“Only a week?” asked Henry. “That all it takes to end our careers?”
Alvin narrowed his eyes then he turned and walked away.
The room was silent as he crossed back to his seat.
Tosh looked terrified.
Yumi wore a smirk. “Everything clear now?” she said.
“Crystal,” said Alvin.
Alvin found his mind wandering to his multitool as he followed the floating nav arrow back down to Beckman’s office. He always carried it on his hip at a job site. It was a little compact all-in-one that had saved his ass on more than one occasion. He never knew what type of screw bit he might require or what ties he might have to cut through to prep equipment. Now he was thinking of it as a weapon. He knew he could expect more trouble.
He arrived at Beckman’s door and saw him inside through a small glass slit in the door. He was talking to one of his staff. Alvin had seen her earlier. She had been the one taking notes. He knocked on the door and Beckman looked up and motioned for him to enter.
“Ready to go?” asked Beckman.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. This is Dr. Choi.”
“Hello.”
“She is going to perform an evaluation before you depart. It’s standard procedure,” said Beckman.
“Don’t you monitor my implants?” said Alvin.
“Yes, your biometrics are reporting just fine, Alvin. This is a psychological exam.”
She must have noticed my panic attacks.
“I’m under some stress,” he said.
“Yes, you’ve had quite a few spikes in your heart rate. Nothing dangerous, but something that indicates some uneasiness.”
“This is all very new. I’m an Earth technician. I’ve never been off-planet before.”
“I understand. It can be an overwhelming experience. You’ve been away for six months now. There can be all sorts of deleterious effects. Are you having any hallucinations? Hearing any voices?”
“No. If anything is bothering me, it’s a lack of clarity from my superiors.”
“We all deal with that problem.” She smiled at Beckman and he curled his lip in annoyance. “In all seriousness, anxiety can be a serious concern out here. Whether from lack of sunlight, low gravity, cosmic rays. Everyone experiences it to some degree.”
Beckman leaned back in his chair, quiet and studious.
“I’m just away from home on a business trip and I want to finish up.”
“Of course, Alvin, but I want you to be aware of the dangers.”
“Duly noted,” he said.
She nodded at Beckman and stood up.
“Looks like you’re good to fly, Alvin,” said Beckman. “Thank you, Alice.”
She nodded and shook Alvin’s hand. “Remember, if you need any more medication, please let me know. We want to be out in front of these things.”
“Any more?” he asked.
“Yes, I understand you had your first meal this morning. The meds should begin working by this evening,” she said.
He nodded slowly and she left the room. Beckman pressed a button on his desk and the door closed behind her.
Alvin cocked his head as he waited for him to comment.
“Yes, the food is mixed with anti-anxiety and anti-aggression sedatives. It’s a necessary precaution,” said Beckman.
“I don’t think it’s working.”
“Certainly not on you—yet,” said Beckman. “Since we received word of your arrival, my miners have been going batty. I’ve read your history and now I’ve seen your behavior up close. You’re a loose cannon.”
“Your men are wackos.”
“Why Alteris hired you I don’t know, but I don’t question my orders. I want you up on Dactyl. Get your job done and get out of here. I have worked very hard to create an incident-free base. I am not going to lose my pension because of some petty video game squabble.”
“Then keep Carroll Henry and his goons away from me.”
“He’s not on Dactyl. You leave in an hour. Toshiro will train you on the procedure.”
“You know, Beckman, they think I’m putting in automation. Maybe your job goes, too.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears, Mr. Baylor. I’ve been here for six years. Have a safe trip.”
Alvin’s mouth scrunched up and he walked out.
Thirty-One
Alvin and Tosh grappled with the railings as they moved through the hangar bay. A single lane led to the row of rock hoppers that circled the conical bay. They came to an egg-shaped pod that was moored to the deck. The hopper’s cable-like tendrils held it in place by gripping a metal cross affixed to the floor. The number fifteen was stenciled on the ground.
“All right, this is your rock hopper. The autopilot will take you down into Acm
on crater on Dactyl and back again. You’ll need to operate the tentacles to anchor to the surface. That little moon isn’t going to hold you down. So long as you’re out there you’ll need to use your suit thrusters or risk bounding away. There’s a small structure in that valley. There you should find your—well, you should find whoever is waiting for you,” said Tosh.
“I saw a red light coming from a crater when we flew in,” said Alvin.
“That’s Acmon. The red light is from some sort of interference generator. No radio signals can penetrate. Buzz has tried scoping it out with optical telescopes. That’s how we know about the structure. He said there was a delivery last Christmas. Whoever’s there hasn’t been seen since they arrived.”
“So, in other words, another warm welcome?”
Tosh nodded. “You run the VR trainer?”
“You know I calibrate the synaptics on these things?” said Alvin.
“Yeah, but you don’t fly ’em. Take a look at it when you can in case the autopilot fails. Let’s get you onboard. Beckman wants you up there.”
Tosh pulled a lever popping open the rear hatch of the egg-shaped cockpit. Alvin hopped up off the ground and glided inside. The space was tight. He pulled the sphere from the pouch on his belt, then leapfrogged over the back-to-back chair and into the front seat. He tucked the sphere into an alcove below the seat. His fingers still tingled for a moment after he let go.
“Thanks,” he said.
“No problem,” said Tosh.
“No, really. I appreciate you trusting me.”
“Got no reason not to. Good luck, Alvin. When you finish up, I’ll have a treat for you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Sioux has been growing something strong for me in the hydro farm and it’s ready for harvest.”
“I’m sure I’ll need it after a day’s work. See you later,” said Alvin.
Tosh pushed off the hopper’s frame and floated out into the docking bay with a wave. Alvin pressed a button that closed the hatch and sealed the compartment. He leaned back into the seat and the craft came to life.
As the engines fired, he received an alert in his Opti-Comp. It was a message from Katy. He peeped it. Diagnostic data crawled across his helmet’s display as the Opti-Comp downloaded a voice message.
Alvin Baylor Lives!_A 21st Century Pulp Page 19