by Mark Tufo
“Hurts less than his face.”
“I really didn’t think he’d be able to take that kind of punch.”
“I pulled back. If he fell over in front of his men he may have been more tempted to do something stupid, and then you would have gotten involved.”
“Man, just like a woman to be three moves ahead.”
“That’s what we do.”
“Guys never really have a chance, do they?”
“Not so much.”
“Let’s get some food and see if we can get BT over here.”
“Do you think they’re going to let us stay here?”
“Shit, woman, I never even thought of that. I just assumed that would be the case. I don’t know how much more alone time I can spend with them. I never thought something would give me more of the skeevies than Beth until we came across them.”
“That’s funny,” she chortled.
We sat and ate for close to an hour before Paul had the nuts to track us down.
“Mike,” he said from about ten feet away. If he had a hat, I’m sure it would be in hand right now.
“The fuck you want?” I didn’t look up from my coffee.
“Mike, just listen to him.”
“This coming from the one who played Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots with his head? How do you spin your emotions on a dime?”
“It’s a talent really. It’s one girls are taught from the moment they get out of diapers and then spend the rest of their lives mastering.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“I’m going to find a new uniform and then get the stench of battle, death, and more importantly, Stryvers off of me. Have fun.” She patted my chest as she got up and walked past Paul without saying a word.
“Can I sit?”
“Yeah, my appetite just soured anyway.” I pushed my chair away from the table.
Paul sat, but didn’t say anything for a second. I guess he was trying to find the right words. I mean, what can you say? “Sorry I tried to get you and your wife killed, nothing personal, I was just trying to get laid.” He avoided that part of the conversation altogether.
“It’s good to see you.”
I had, “Well, I can’t reciprocate” all loaded and ready to be fired from my mouth. Not sure why I held on to that barb, maybe it was the damned hang dog expression he had on his face. He may have put me and mine in harm’s way, but the guilt of that act had been eating away at him. That was easy enough to see in his gaunt features.
“Um, well,” he continued when I said nothing. I’m sure he watched as I bit back on what I was going to say.
“Did you know there was a nuke at the fighter factory we were sent to defend at all costs? Or should I say fighter factory trap? Of course you did. You didn’t even need to hesitate with your answer to reveal the truth. Who besides you could have possibly had the resources to pull that off? We were best friends, Paul. I risked death saving your life once-upon-a-time. Do you even remember that car accident, or has your fucking power-swollen head pushed that memory out of your skull? Up until recently, there was not a moment where I would not have done that again or something similar to save you. Now though, buddy, I’d let you burn.”
“I deserved that.”
“That? You deserved that? Well aren’t you just fucking magnanimous. Can you even comprehend how many times death left brush strokes on Tracy’s body and mine? You pompous asshole. You deserved that? I didn’t do anything except give you a verbal tongue-lashing. What you deserve is world class beating. What I’m afraid of is that, once I start, I won’t be able to stop. And I will not tarnish the memory of our past friendship by killing you, no matter how much you deserve it. There’s a war to fight, and it looks like it is on two fronts, so for that I will counsel with you, because this is much bigger than your perceived self-worth or your Napoleon complex or whatever a psychotherapist would call it. But you and me, old pal, well, we’re done. Never again will I invite you to my house, never again will I allow you to hold my child, and never again will I raise a beer up in toast with you no matter the occasion. We’re as done as if I had let you fry in that car.”
With that, I got up and walked away. I’d not realized we had garnered an audience until I looked up just in time to see my least favorite person.
“Mike.” Beth had her hand out.
“You have got to be kidding me. Beth, I need you to listen to me with all of your being. Open your heart and your mind to the words as I speak them. You with me?”
She nodded.
“I need you to find the deepest, darkest hole you can possibly crawl into, then I need for you to have that hole filled in with expanding concrete, and if that’s not enough maybe bring in a hand grenade with you. Swallow it though, because sometimes people live when they jump on them. I would think an internal explosion should do the trick. I really hope that’s crystalline to that diseased fucking brain of yours, because if it isn’t, and you come anywhere near me or my family, I’m going to fuck you up. You and I don’t have the history I had with Paul, so I don’t have that trigger safety with you like I do with him. I don’t give a shit that you’re a woman, you’ve proved your lethality to me and I won’t hesitate to remove that threat.” I was walking away. I swear I was.
“You can’t mean that, Mike!” she shouted to my back.
“I’ve never meant something more in my life.” I did not turn to deliver the words.
I was steaming as I walked down a long corridor. One of Paul’s men had unfortunate timing.
“Where’s my wife?” I asked him.
“How the hell should I know?” was his response.
I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and rushed him backwards into the wall. He let out a loud ‘umph’ as I forced the air from his lungs.
“Let’s try this again. My name is Colonel Talbot. My wife is Major Talbot. She’s about yay tall, fiery red hair and a disposition to match. About as pretty as one can get without having to be carved from stone. So where is she?”
“If you let me go, I’ll find out.”
I believed him.
“I’ll wait right here. You’re not back in five minutes, you’ll be handing out mints in the latrine for the rest of your career.”
I’ve never seen a Staff Sergeant move quite that fast. I didn’t really think I had the authority to pull off that kind of duty reassignment, but the important thing was that he thought I could. It took three and a half minutes before an apologetic Staff Sergeant Grommels returned.
“She’s in temporary quarters, Deck C, room 22. Want me to take you there?”
“No. I’m all too familiar with this ship’s layout. Are you alright?” I asked.
“Sir?”
“When I pushed you into the wall, are you alright?”
“I am.”
“I’m sorry about that, it was an overreaction for sure.”
“I’ll be fine, sir.”
“Okay, thank you.” I think he was more confused about my 180-degree turn around than he was my initial outburst. Wouldn’t doubt if he thought I had the fastest cycling bi-polar disease yet discovered.
Within five minutes I was at our temporary room. Tracy was in the bathroom, a white robe donning her frame, a blue towel in her hands as she dried her hair.
“How’d that go?” she asked, standing up.
“Swimmingly.”
“Mike, I need more than your standard sarcasm.”
“It sucked ass. How’s that?”
She tilted her head, pursed her lips and placed her fists against her hips.
I sighed, sitting on the bed before I spoke. “I told him that I would help with this war, and no matter whether we won or lost, we were through.”
“Restraint, Michael? You showed restraint? You must be growing up. I was wondering when the alarm klaxon was going to go off.”
“You thought I was going to harm him, and yet you still left?”
“I’d still like to make a full-bird colonel before I’m t
hirty.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I?” She let the robe drop. I think my jaw made impact with the ground before the terry cloth garment did.
Not sure if I could have taken a more intense and faster shower than I did at that moment. In contrast, our love making was a slow steady expression of love. How many more feelings could I tap into before the day was through? Right now I didn’t care.
Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT – MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 5
I’d fallen asleep. Tracy had left at some point. I didn’t hear her, as she could be like a ninja when she wanted to be. I sat in the bed for a little while longer, thinking about Paul. What exactly was I going to do now? I meant what I’d said, every last word of it. I had not softened on my stance—if anything I’d hardened to it. The balance was going to be how I could act somewhat civil towards him so that we could get some vastly important things accomplished. More important than either of us.
We were best friends once, maybe even more. Brothers, I suppose, would be a more fitting word. There was nothing I would not have done for him, and I think I could safely say the same about him. What changes in life that makes a bond that you think is unassailable, become brittle and shatter like a hollow ice sculpture? Upon reflection, most of our time together revolved around having a good time. We were playing sports or at parties. Hanging out in high school or college with each of our girlfriends at the time. Unlike a true familial bond, we did not have overt stresses placed on our relationship. Maybe that’s the difference; we’d never been truly tested. Sure, we’d had our ups and downs in life, but not against each other for the most part. Normally what our response would be if one of us were down, was to take the other out and get him liquored up. That was how we went through life. There’s a good chance we could have rode out our relationship like this all the way to our ends if the Progerians hadn’t shown up.
Nothing like a good old alien invasion to screw shit up. Oh, and a maniacal bitch, can’t forget about her. I think, had Beth and I not been tossed into hell and stirred around a bit, I would have eventually seen her true colors bleed through. My only hope would be that it hadn’t come too late after I’d put a ring on her finger. Do demons have fingers? She is who she is. Sure, the experience on the Julipion may have hastened the process of exposing her core, stripping away the veneer to what lay hidden beneath. That would have sucked getting saddled with her and potentially spawning children. I am glad I dodged that bullet, because it would be safe to say I would have asked her to marry me at some point during college.
I have to thank aliens for saving my life in one aspect. It’s humorous in a twisted sort of way. Without them, I would have never met the person I was supposed to marry. Pretty sure there was no place in the Marine Corps for a perpetual stoner, and Tracy would have had no patience for me anyway if we’d had a chance encounter at a Starbucks or something. I would have been all hippied out with long hair and a Widespread Panic t-shirt, maybe would have even had Jesus sandals on with no socks. I would have reeked of patchouli to cover up the stench of not showering for a week or two. She would have even had to lend me a dollar to cover the cost of the cup of coffee. That would have gone over huge! Chicks dig broke guys. It’s a fact.
As for my friend, I would need to mourn the loss of Paul’s friendship much like I would had he died; it was that profound.
“Maybe I can go pour myself a little chamomile tea and take a nice bubble bath. Get your ass out of bed,” I mumbled to myself.
“Chamomile? Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Really, woman? You sneak out of here like you owe me money, and then you come in without making a noise just in time to hear that?”
“Chamomile and a bubble bath? No wonder your troops would follow you anywhere.”
“It’s all about the smell. A little lavender in the water reacts with the skin to create a wonderful essence.”
“Get your ass out of bed. The Stryvers are finishing up and want to meet with everyone in charge.”
“I’d rather drink the tea.”
She tossed a pillow at my head.
* * *
I took a deep, and what I hoped was a calming, breath, as I got ready to enter into the conference room. Partly because I had to deal with Paul and his unseemly other half, but even worse than that duo was the Stryvers. If I could become a vampire and live for a thousand years, I had the feeling it would never get easier gazing upon that most foul of beasts.
“Yeah, definitely not easier,” I said as I slid into the room. It was not necessarily tight; I just wanted as much distance between us as possible. Paul was without Beth, who apparently, and smartly, opted out of this little gathering. This was actually the one time she seemed a better choice to be with at the moment. Life is weird.
Some of Paul’s officers seemed a little antsier than others. The Stryvers were doing their voodoo mind-control shit. I could feel the greasy after-effects as its oily residue slid across my brain. About as comforting as having a clown tuck you in at night. The two Stryvers turned to look at me as I came in. I believed it to be Ham and Cherry, but they were about as easy to differentiate from one another as pieces of coal.
“I do not like this one. He is different from the others.”
“We will be rid of all of them if these grotesqueries are able to kill the Progerians.”
I felt the same shiver they felt when they talked about the Progs go up my spine. Sooner or later, I was going to slip up and they’d realize that I could hear them. I sat down as naturally as I could, which was somewhere between stiff as a board and cooked spaghetti. So, potentially, it could have been fairly smooth.
“We have repaired your buckle drive and the coupling harness.”
I figured this statement was for the masses, but I waited for the expressions of gratitude and relief from those around me before I made my own congratulatory utterances.
“Watch the Talbot-thing to see if he is suspicious.”
I was checking my fingernails. I figured this looked like the least suspicious thing I could do; and more importantly, what was I supposed to be suspicious of? Now that they’d brought it up, I certainly was now. That’s a lie. I was always going to be suspicious of them, as they found us as disfiguringly disgusting as we did them. I had to choke back a small amount of vomit when I thought of them procreating. Not sure why I went there, I just did.
“You okay?” Tracy was rubbing my back as I slightly bent over.
“I might never be again,” I said as I sat back up.
“We will need to bring on more technicians to repair the damages your ship has sustained. In addition, we have some upgrades for your weaponry systems.”
There was a general murmur of unease among the group.
“How long can we expect you to be onboard?” Paul asked.
Ham and Cherry backed up slightly.
“Inside voice,” I said quietly to Paul. “They don’t deal well with shouting.” The panic he was trying to quell was making his voice louder. This had to be something we could exploit. Did the Stryvers wear some sort of hearing protection when they went into battle? How else could they cope with extraneous noise? Or was it just our frequency range that squealed on their receptors? We needed to capture one of these things and do some tests.
“There is a problem with your personnel running around. Some of our technicians have never been around humans and will not be able to perform their duties correctly.”
“What exactly are you asking? Do you want us all to be confined to quarters while your crew runs around my ship?” What Paul left unsaid was “unattended.”
It was bad enough having them aboard, kind of like knowing you have ticks adhered to your body and cannot remove them because your arms don’t work. Now, if we were just going to let them roam freely, who knew what crevices they would sink into. Think on that a moment. Just dwell on what warm, moist fissures a disease-riddled parasite would delve into if given the chance. Fun stu
ff, huh?
“We would need a minimum of five Earth days to repair this ship.”
Paul stood violently, if such a thing could be done. He was shaking, a decent mixture of rage and fear. I could pick up on it because the Stryvers had us all open to each other so they could communicate with us. Sort of like a hive, I suppose; although, we were certainly not of one mind. Maybe this was why Beth opted out of joining the party. She didn’t want everyone to see the depths of her black heart. What choice did Paul really have? Sure, we had the buckle drive back, but what did that really mean? That we could get back to our ass-kicking really fast?
“I understand completely your personnel’s discomfort with people,” I began. “Obviously you realize this goes both ways and that we would also like nothing better than to keep our two species separate. At least as long as it takes to get used to one another as we enter into this alliance.” (I added that part on quickly.) Paul looked like a blood vessel was going to burst in his left eye it was twitching so uncontrollably. He was trying to silence me before my less than diplomatic skill got us into trouble. “But we could learn so much from your advanced technology and methods. How about a compromise? Two, possibly three of our engineers to watch and survey the repairs so that we would be better able to fix things in the future.”
“I grow weary of the Talbot-thing and his words. We should just kill everyone in this room and take the ship for ourselves,” Ham said.
Cherry replied, “The commander would be upset, although we could tell him we were attacked and were defending ourselves.”
I looked to Paul and made a gun gesture with my finger and thumb, along with the verbal cue of a bullet ‘pssshhh’ sound. I think he thought I was directing it at him, I could see why. I hadn’t really thought out my charades acting very well.
I noticed our folly immediately. No one at the table had brought a gun. How fucking naïve could we be?
“Kill the leader first, the rest may cede easily and we can eat in peace.”
Why do aliens always seem to want to eat us? I have never gazed upon a Progerian and thought, Mmm, you look tasty. And I certainly would not think that about a friggin’ Stryver.
