Junkyard Pirate

by Jamie McFarlane

  “Sure, but Doc, I don’t need meds. I was hot because I tried to impress you by rolling myself up the ramp,” he said. “Take my temp again, you’ll see.”

  Jayne narrowed her eyes. “That seems unlikely, but you do look less flushed.” She rummaged in her bag and extracted the thermometer, taking a moment to replace the disposable plastic tip.

  Beverly sat on Jayne’s shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing, AJ. Korgul will go to great lengths to prevent information from leaving Earth. They’ll kill you and everyone you know, including Dr. Amanda Jayne, who you clearly have a thing for.”

  “A thing for her?” AJ said.

  “Pardon?” Jayne said, looking confused.

  “Sorry. What I meant was that prescriptions go into the computer, right?”

  “For insurance, yes,” Jayne answered, tugging on AJ’s earlobe as she inserted the probe. She pursed her lips as she read the display and then laid a hand across his forehead. “Most unusual. Do you mind?” she extracted the blood pressure cuff from her bag and wrapped it around his arm.

  “No, go ahead,” he said. “You’d treat high blood pressure with a prescription too, right?” Giving Beverly a meaningful glance.

  “Sometimes. I’d want a few data points before we did that, however,” she said as she pumped air into the cuff. “Have you ever been diagnosed with high blood pressure?”

  AJ shrugged. “Probably.”

  “Your blood pressure reads like a man half your age,” she said. “I need you to come by the hospital tomorrow so I can run more detailed tests.”

  The sound of a vehicle pulling through the outside gate drew AJ’s attention. “Hey, that’s Darnell now.”

  As he looked back to the doctor, he noticed that Beverly had constructed a miniature virtual guillotine and was placing her head on the block.

  “I could send a car for you,” she continued.

  “I don’t think you’re reading me, Doc. I’m not much for getting poked and prodded. I appreciate your concern and all, but I’m going to take a rain check,” he said. “Say, you wouldn’t be up for some meatloaf, would you?”

  A knock at the door interrupted their conversation and without waiting for a response, Darnell entered the kitchen. “Oh, hey there, Doc,” he said. “Making house calls?”

  She smiled. “I was in the area. Decided to check on my patient.”

  “You’ll never believe it. She thinks my ticker is like a forty-year-old’s,” AJ said.

  “Forty-year-old dog, maybe,” Darnell said, setting a bag of groceries on the counter.

  AJ chuckled.

  “Not exactly what I said,” Jayne said. “Are you sure you won’t come down then? Perhaps Darnell could bring you in.”

  Darnell raised an eyebrow as he pulled a foil-topped pan from the bag of groceries and slid it into the oven. “You miss an appointment, AJ? I’d be happy to run you over.”

  AJ shook his head. “I’m supposed to meet with an occupational therapist next week. They’re going to teach me how to get around in my wheelchair. Seems to me, I’m getting around just fine. Might need a little help cleaning the loo, though. Things got a little out of control a bit ago. I’d recommend holding it if you feel the need.”

  “Actually,” Jayne interrupted. “Albert’s progress is remarkable. Some might even say miraculous. He should be lying in bed with a full course of pain killers. When I arrived, he’d just taken out the trash. His eyes are clear and his pupils show that he’s not on any pain killers. It’s truly nothing short of remarkable.”

  “Did you know Doc patched me up back in ‘Nam?” AJ said.

  “Did she now?” Darnell asked.

  AJ pulled his shirt up, showing his abdomen. “Apparently, this was her work.” He pointed at an old scar.

  “Life’s a funny circle,” Darnell said.

  “You won’t come to the hospital?” Jayne asked.

  AJ shook his head. “Seems to me that staying out of hospitals is the best way to keep alive. Did you know that over thirty percent of people who are admitted to the hospital never come out?”

  Jayne sighed as she packed her bag. “That’s a ridiculous statistic. Sick people come to hospitals and the vast majority of them leave better than they came in.”

  “Don’t bite, Doc,” Darnell said. “He’s a master at getting people spun up.”

  “So I see,” she said and straightened up. “Albert, you’ll call if you feel worse?”

  “Don’t let Darnell run you off,” AJ said. “He’s not sticking around and I’ve got meatloaf to share.”

  “Didn’t you say it tasted like sand?”

  Darnell grinned. “He’s not wrong.”

  “Oh, I see how it is,” Jayne said. “If you won’t come to the hospital, would you mind if I visited again?”

  “Anytime, Doc,” AJ said.

  “Great. I can let myself out.”

  “Nah, I’ll see you out.” He wheeled after her.

  “Is that the equipment that fell on you?” she asked, pointing into the yard which was still in disarray.

  “That’s right. Darnell found me under that pile over there."

  “They look like rockets.”

  “Good eye. Salvage contract with the Air Force.”

  “What do you do with them?”

  "I was hoping to get a ride on one of them."

  Jayne shook her head and a small smile tugged at her ordinarily severe expression. "I'll be back in a week, Mr. Jenkins."

  "You old dog, you," Darnell said as he joined AJ at the bottom of the ramp.

  AJ shrugged as he looked at his friend. "You staying for dinner?" he asked.

  Darnell's face showed that he thought the idea was ludicrous. "Not on your life. I'll grab a hamburger on the way home. Lisa wants a list for groceries, though."

  Beverly appeared on Darnell's shoulder dressed in jeans and a simple white blouse. "Tell him you've created an account with the Super-V's delivery service and have groceries on the way."

  "I have?"

  Darnell turned his head, following AJ's eyes, which appeared to be looking over his shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

  "Tell him," Beverly said.

  AJ shook his head. "Sorry, bird caught my attention. Did you know Big-V has a delivery service? It's even free if you get over a hundred bucks worth of groceries. And they’ll deliver booze."

  "All right. I get it," he said. "The doctor was right, you know. You are looking better. I can't put my finger on it exactly. Maybe skip the booze for a while?"

  "We'll see," AJ said.

  Five

  Ground Rules

  "You seem quite popular. Should we expect more visitors?" Beverly asked once Darnell had gone. She wore her rocket pack and hovered a few feet in front of his face.

  AJ shrugged. "Hell if I know."

  "We have much work to do if we are to get our mission back on schedule."

  "What mission?"

  "To survey the advance of the Korgul invasion of Earth and report back to the Galactic Empire, of course," she said, adopting an exasperated expression.

  "I never agreed to that."

  "Did you not fight in a war to defend your country's interests? AJ, Earth's future as a developing world is very much at stake. Consider the economic implications of a society that cannot travel as other, more advanced societies can. Think of how the lack of industrial development has stunted your planet’s poorer nations. Is this what you wish for Earth?"

  "You said it yourself," he said. "In 1932, you all visited and found twenty million Korgul had already invaded. According to you, these Korgul stripped Earth of critical resources while your Galactic Empire stood by and did nothing. Tell me again why I should give a shit if you make your stupid report?"

  "Gigantic bureaucracies move very slowly," she said. "Our survey data will show that Korgul have not desisted their activities on Earth. More pressure will be applied."

  "And that will stop the Korgul?"

  Beverly looked away
, refusing to meet his stare. "Is it not clear? If the survey data is not gathered and delivered, Korgul will win by default."

  "You know, there isn't an operational spaceship within all this junk, right?" AJ said, sweeping an arm around the yard where debris covered most of the ground. "It's just the leftover tubes that fell back to Earth after launch or, in your case, the space junk that was pulled from orbit by the Green Commission. And hell, I can barely throw a bag into the trash can. Face it, you've got nothing. You should just be glad to be alive. I know I am."

  Beverly smiled, lifting her chin so she could look directly at AJ. "Do you mean that? You're glad to be alive?"

  AJ gave her a bewildered look. "Of course. You gotta be pretty messed up to think otherwise. And, yeah, I know, things got pretty dark there for a while, but I'm feeling better."

  "Then use that hope for the good of your world, AJ," she said, bobbing toward him, her rocket pack making blurp blurp sounds as it shot out little blue rings of exhaust.

  He rolled his eyes. "Damn, I hate perky."

  "Do you have a vehicle, AJ?" she asked. "We need supplies and I am unable to find a delivery service."

  "If you hadn't noticed, my legs don't exactly work," he said. "Even if I could get into the truck, I can't drive."

  "Show me your vehicle."

  Having nothing better to do, AJ obliged. He rolled his chair around a pile of junked vehicles to the two vehicles he owned - an old flatbed semi-trailer which was attached to a rounded cab tractor and his almost finished Subaru sedan.

  "Subaru isn’t working yet," he said. "Only thing I've got that runs is that old beast."

  Beverly got a far-off look in her face that AJ now associated with her doing research. "Yes, that is a conundrum. The effort made to effectively utilize the clutch and pedals in the large vehicle is beyond what I believe we can accomplish. What is required to restore the operation of the Subaru?"

  "Need to thread a couple belts and bolt down the alternator. Might as well need a heart transplant, though. There's no way I can get all that done from this chair."

  "If we constructed a ramp, could you not lie atop the engine and complete that task?" she asked, showing an animation of him doing exactly that. "I calculate that you have more than sufficient manual dexterity to both construct a ramp, slide atop it and perform the requisite repairs."

  "Are you nuts? Not only are my tools in the shed, but you want me to shimmy my butt up a ramp? What if I fall off?"

  "You have sufficient strength to pick yourself up from the ground," she said. "However, a complete survey of your tools might offer new possibilities."

  AJ started to object but he realized she wasn't wrong. If he could slide his body up and over the engine, it wouldn't take long to finish the job. The idea of driving the old car in his current shape made him grin. What would Darnell say? That alone gave him motivation to push off in the direction of his machine shed.

  While it was only forty yards between the car and the shed, AJ was dripping with sweat by the time he arrived. It was one thing to roll down the hard surface of the twenty-foot graduated ramp and another thing entirely to push his way through the rocks, dirt and clutter of his junkyard.

  "You need more fluids, Albert Jenkins," Beverly said as AJ made it to the forty-five by thirty-foot machine shed. He grabbed the edge of the side-rolling, fifteen-foot-tall door that would give him access.

  AJ grunted as he pushed with considerable effort and slid the door to the side enough to allow his wheelchair entry. "You were reading my mind. Damn," he muttered, stuck on the lip of the cement pad that ran beneath the shop. He had to roll back to get a run at the obstruction and finally made it up onto the level surface.

  He flipped on lights and wheeled to an ancient round-edged refrigerator. Icy air drifted out when he opened the door. AJ grabbed an unlabeled brown glass bottle, snagged a church key from a shelf in the door, and popped the top.

  "Are these fermented drinks, AJ?" Beverly asked, standing next to the rows of identical bottles, wearing a parka.

  "Indeed they are. Brewed them myself." He tipped back the bottle and enjoyed the bitter burn at the back of his throat. "Good carbs to keep us going, don't you think?"

  He set the half-empty bottle between his legs and grabbed a second before shutting the door. Wheeling his way to a long wooden work bench, he grabbed two new belts and the small toolbox he used for Subaru maintenance.

  "You should refrain from mind-altering substances. We have an important mission and will need to be at our best," she said.

  AJ spun his chair around and stopped, deliberately taking another long drink. "Sweetheart, when a fella works on his car, he has to drink. It's a rule. You, yourself admitted I was in need of refreshments. My barley pops were handy, and besides, they put me in a good mood." AJ turned and wheeled himself out of the shed.

  "Are all humans as obstinate as you?" she asked.

  "I like to think of myself as an overachiever."

  Beverly went quiet as he pushed himself over to the vehicle.

  "Any ideas on where to get that ramp from your little video?"

  AJ pulled the Subaru's hood release and looked for a stick to lift the hood without needing to stand up. A blinking red light showed in his peripheral vision and he instinctively turned his head toward it. As he turned, a light-green outline framed a pile of dimension lumber. As he focused on the pile, a wireframe animation showed sticks of the lumber rotating into place and nails fastening them together.

  "You could have told me I needed a hammer and nails before I came back," he said, shaking his head.

  She appeared atop the lumber stack with arms crossed. "I find myself annoyed with your behavior."

  "Shit. It's like I'm married again but with none of the benefits," he muttered under his breath.

  "It is exactly like that," Beverly said. "I, too, find our binding less than ideal. Your self-destructive behavior is a considerable risk to our success."

  "Oh, yeah?" AJ drained his already half-empty beer and for emphasis, threw the bottle across the yard where it broke on an old car. "Risk that. I don't take orders from you."

  The barking of an angry dog caught his attention. Looking over, he discovered two shabby, but muscular pit bulls had somehow entered the yard. He estimated the lead dog to weigh in excess of seventy pounds and was apparently out for blood.

  "Hey, buddy. No need for that," AJ said, calmly placing the belts and tools atop the Subaru's hood. The pit bull wasn’t satisfied with his answer and stalked forward, growling menacingly. AJ opened the small toolbox and grabbed a hammer. Against a charging pit bull, the lightweight tool wasn't much of a weapon, but it was something.

  The pit bulls split apart and continued to advance. AJ slowly wheeled his chair around and backed toward the house. As he lifted in the chair to grip the wheels, his second beer rolled from his lap and broke on the ground beneath him. He paid it no attention and continued to back up.

  As if responding to an invisible cue, both dogs raced forward, barking and snarling, foam dripping from their jowls. AJ couldn't help but be impressed by their sheer physicality, as in tandem, they leapt for him. Raising his left arm to intercept the alpha, he swung the small hammer at the smaller of the two dogs. Then confusion set in. Neither dog made contact with his arm or his hammer.

  Then understanding hit him. "Are you serious? You could have given me a damn heart attack."

  "It is imperative that you understand we are bonded," Beverly said. "Each of your actions has a direct impact on me and my crew. Just because we are small does not mean you should so handily discount our value."

  "Oh, hell," AJ said. "I've drank beer nearly my whole damn life. If you're gonna get all nutty every time I have a brew, we're not gonna last. You should get out now. Maybe I can help you find a real host."

  "That's not possible, Albert Jenkins," Beverly said. "We are bonded."

  "What do you mean, that's not possible?"

  "Bonding is for life."

 
; "Not true. You had a Vred host," he shot back. "It's dead and you're not."

  "Perhaps you did not understand. My Vred host was killed during my extraction. It gave its life for the mission so I might survive. I was one of five who survived the extraction. My original crew was eighty."

  "Are you saying eighty of these alligator people just up and offed themselves?" he asked.

  "I already told you that the Vred are a fiercely loyal, highly logical people," she said. "They did what was necessary to further the objectives of the mission."

  "Don't you think you should have told me that?" he asked.

  "You were dying, Albert Jenkins," she said. "Had you not agreed when you did, you would now be dead and my crew would still be attached to the side of the rocket hull where you found us."

  "You know, I'm still not clear on how you knew I wasn't infected with a Korgul Prime," he said.

  "Bonding is not an infection," she said. "When done without duress, it is the joining of two symbiotic life forms to create a partnership which enhances both parties."

  "How did you know I wasn't infected?" he asked again. "And don't give me that bonding is love shit. No way anyone lets one of those glowing snot balls up in their eye without a fight."

  "You are correct. Prime do not require willing hosts, but entering a host without its approval is against Galactic Empire law," she said. "I knew you were not bonded because you are not a sufficiently worthwhile host by Korgul standards. If you had been, once you retired from your career in the aerospace industry, you would have been dispatched so the Prime could be rehomed."

  "I thought that was risky," he said.

  "It is different for Korgul Prime and Beltigerskians. While excruciating for the host, a Prime may be extracted under the proper supervision."

  "You're saying that no self-respecting Prime would have stayed in my body? The fact that I was still alive was all the proof you needed. That about right?"

  "You are correct."

  AJ pushed on the wheels of his wheelchair and started back toward his home.

  "What are you doing, Albert Jenkins?" Beverly asked.

  "I didn't fight in a war to lose my freedom to a self-serving alien," he said. "If your answer is to bully me into doing what you want, you're going to need to up your game because I'm done."