by Tripp Ellis
She drifted into the living room, and one glance at the mini-bar made her stomach turn. She didn't even want to think about alcohol right now. She moved into the kitchen and dialed up a slice of greasy cheese pizza from the food fabricator. The device contained a mix of proteins, fats, carbohydrates, along with sweeteners and flavorings. It could print just about anything on demand, and it was stunningly accurate in both look, texture, and taste. Servos and actuators mixed the components and pushed them through nozzles. In a matter of moments, a warm, doughy slice of cheese pizza was 3D printed. Max thought the heavy cheese might settle her stomach.
She took a test bite, carefully swallowing, not sure if it was going to come back up or not. It slid down her throat and settled in her belly. She waited for a moment, ready to dash back into the head for an emergency evacuation. But it seemed like the bite was going to stay put. Max took another, more aggressive, bite and swallowed it down with less caution.
She heard the rattle of the hatch as Winston entered the compartment.
"Where have you been?"
"I've been learning all about the ship safety protocols."
"Figures."
"I think it was a valuable use of my time."
Max took another bite.
"I see you're feeling somewhat better?"
Max nodded as she chewed.
"I can take you down to see the ship's physician if you'd like?”
“No thanks. That won't be necessary.”
“I'm sure he sees plenty of seasick patients," Winston said, making air quotes.
Max sneered at him.
"Are you going to tell me what's really going on with you?"
"I'm fine. It's probably just stress."
"I've never seen you stressed like this," he said, making air quotes again.
"Would you stop with the air quotes? I'm fine."
"Okay," he said, with another set of air quotes, just to annoy her.
Max shook her head, but even that hurt.
“Don't spoil your supper," Winston said. "Dinner is in less than an hour."
"I think I'm going to skip dinner."
"You can't skip dinner.”
Max arched an eyebrow at him. "What do you care? It's not like you're going to eat anything."
"I know. But it's the experience. I've never had dinner on a cruise ship before with hundreds of other people. You never know who we might meet."
"I know who I'd like to avoid."
"Please, you just don't want Dylan to see you like this."
"Excuse me? Is there something wrong with the way I look?"
Winston was silent a moment. "Well, I'm just saying… You've seen better days." Winston knew how to push Max's buttons.
She gave him a challenging look that said oh yeah, we'll see about that. She spun around and stormed back into the bedroom. She didn't care how long she was going to have to spend primping in front of the mirror, she was going to look drop-dead gorgeous for dinner.
She called back into the living room. "Why don't you see if you can get something for seasickness from the ship's doctor."
Winston grinned. “Aye-aye, Captain,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.
The robot marched out the compartment and Max activated the automated makeup applicator. The device scanned her face, then generated a number of automated looks to choose from based on her skin tone, eye, and hair color. Each look was fully customizable. Once selected, a series of robotic arms and spray nozzles applied the makeup with speed and precision. The result was a flawless face.
By the time Winston returned from the ship’s Doctor, Max was all dolled up, wearing the slinky black cocktail dress that she had picked up from Galaxy 21 on Orion Station. Her stiletto heels accentuated her toned calves. She looked spectacular.
Winston was surprised. He had never seen her dressed like this. "Hubba hubba!”
"Can it," she said.
"Can't a guy give a girl a complement anymore?"
"Compliments are always welcome, especially from you, Winston,” she said with a smile.
He handed her two pills. "Doctor Saxton said to take these with a full glass of water."
Max took the pills and strolled into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and gulped the capsules down.
"I'm feeling underdressed for the occasion. Give me a moment." Winston slipped into his bedroom and returned a few moments later wearing a black tuxedo by Hugo Zanzari.
"I must say, you clean up well,” Max said.
"Thank you!”
"So, this clothes thing… is that going to become a regular deal for you?"
Winston pondered this moment. “I’m not sure. What do you think? Does it make me look more… human?"
"Is that what you're going for?"
Winston shrugged. "I'm not sure. Let's call it an experiment."
Max took a moment to look at the dapper robot. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, I believe I am."
Max extended her arm and Winston escorted her out of the compartment and down to the dining area.
Not long after they left, the maid tapped on the hatch. When there was no answer, she entered the compartment and turned down the beds. But she left the hatch open and Felix promptly dashed into the corridor. He tore off like a bat out of hell, weaving in between the passengers, disappearing down a side corridor.
10
Classical music from a string quartet flowed over the dining compartment. Hordes of passengers sat at round tables, meeting new guests and engaging in lively conversation. Chatter and the clink of glasses filled the air. The waitstaff scurried about, filling glasses of water and serving appetizers.
Max drew a lot of attention as she stepped into the dining compartment. She was certainly a sight to behold and made more than a few wives jealous as their husbands ogled her.
"This is your experience,” Max said. “You pick where we sit.”
Winston surveyed the compartment, then made a beeline for a table with two empty seats. He pulled out the chair for Max and sat next to her after she was situated. Winston introduced them to the rest of the table. Across from them was a couple in their mid-40s with a young daughter, Hannah, who was maybe 11. There was an alien couple from Nevlovia to their right. They weren’t fluent in the language and didn’t speak a word. There was a young couple just out of college seated to Max’s left. They had been dating since freshman year and this was a graduation present from both sets of parents. It was clear they were on the marriage tract. They were cute and in love and thoroughly nauseating.
Curious eyes gazed at Max and Winston from around the table, trying to ascertain the dynamics of their relationship. The young girl's mother, Jane, was the first to voice her curiosity. "So, is there any particular reason you're traveling alone?"
Max's face looked a little puzzled. "I'm not traveling alone, I’m traveling with Winston.”
"Yes, of course, dear. But it's hard to believe a woman like you doesn't have a man in tow."
“From what I've seen, I suspect there are plenty of options on the ship,” Max said.
The woman had a lecherous glint in her eyes. "Yes, indeed there are."
Her husband, Harold, cleared his throat.
"Of course, I've already found the man of my dreams," Jane said with a slightly sarcastic tone in her voice.
Her husband gave her a slight scowl.
“This is the save the marriage cruise,” Hannah said.
"Hannah!" Jane gasped.
“Hey, I just call them like I see them."
"Perhaps you shouldn't call them at all,” Jane said in a soft but agitated voice. She forced a smile.
The young couple looked mortified. Was that going to be their future?
"I couldn't imagine life without, Noah,” Emma said.
Her beau quickly responded, "I couldn't imagine life without you."
They gazed at each other lovingly.
Jane’s husband rolled his eyes.
The waiter swoop
ed in and saved the day. “Can I get you anything to drink?"
Max's first thought was a stiff shot of whiskey, but the thought made her queasy. "I'll just stick with water, for now, thank you."
"So, Hannah, are you on summer break?” Max asked, trying to change the subject.
She nodded. "Yep.”
“Do you have a lot of trips planned?”
“Nope. Just this one.”
“I’m sure you’re going to have fun.”
“As long as I can keep these two under control,” she said, motioning to her parents.
“I’m sure they’ll behave,” Max said, winking at the young girl.
“I like your hair,” Hannah commented.
“Thank you. I like yours too.” Max smiled.
A waiter brought a tray of appetizers, setting them in the center of the table. Max scanned the dining hall, partially to people watch, partially to check for threats. Old habits die hard. Anytime she walked into a room, she made note of the entrances and exits, places to take cover, and people that looked suspicious. She always knew exactly where she was going to go if all hell broke loose, and she always kept the entrances and exits in her eye-line.
Her blue eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Dylan at another table, laughing with a gorgeous blonde at his side. “That son-of-a-bitch,” Max grumbled to herself. She quickly realized the rest of the table was glaring at her and apologized. “Sorry.”
“What is it?” Winston asked.
“He’s not here alone!”
“Who?”
“Who do you think? Look at that bimbo he’s with!”
Winston’s eyes locked on Dylan. He used his optical zoom to get a better view of the blonde. “She’s very attractive.”
Max scowled at Winston.
“But not nearly as attractive as you,” Winston said, trying to correct his error. “He’s made a poor life choice.”
His retraction seemed to somewhat appease Max.
“He may not be with her. He might just be sitting next to her.”
“Please,” Max said, incredulous.
“I thought you didn’t care about him anymore?”
“I don’t. He can do whatever he wants.” Max paused for a long moment. “As long as it’s not with that blonde.”
“Cray, cray,” Winston muttered.
“Excuse me?” Max said with a lifted brow.
“Nothing,” Winston replied, innocently.
Max narrowed her eyes at him.
The cyborg at the next table drew her attention. She watched the cyborg and her companion as they nibbled at their appetizers. They seemed to be enjoying themselves a little bit more than they had been back in the departure terminal, but there was something off. Max couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Suddenly, the cyborg’s partner started choking. The conversation at the table stopped, and faces washed with panic. The man coughed out his food and clutched his chest. Glasses broke and plates shattered as the man fell to the deck, clutching the tablecloth, pulling the appetizers with him.
The cyborg screeched in terror. “Somebody get some help! I think he’s having a heart attack!”
11
After dinner, Max and Winston strolled through the corridors. The robot regurgitated the highlights of the earlier orientation. Some of it was interesting, most of it wasn’t.
Music filtered into the corridor from Plasmatronics. It was a techno dance bar on A deck. Max could feel the bass rumble in her chest.
Winston’s eyes perked up as he peered into the club. “Can we go inside?”
Max cringed. “I don’t think this is really my scene.”
“Come on. Where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“I think I hurled my spirit of adventure down the toilet earlier.”
“You don’t have to drink.”
“You expect me to enter a bar and not have a drink?”
“The choice is up to you.”
Max pondered this for a moment. She could tell he really wanted to go inside. “Okay. Five minutes. We’ll stay for five minutes and that’s it.”
“Excellent. I’ll start a timer now.”
Max rolled her eyes and followed him into the club. Lights swirled, bathing the patrons in colored shafts. The dance floor was packed. Fog billowed from machines, making the atmosphere thick with haze, accentuating the spotlights.
“Can I get you anything?” the bartender asked as the two sauntered up.
Max hesitated for a moment. “I’ll just have some bottled water for now.”
“Coming right up.”
Max spun around and leaned her elbows against the bar, taking in the view. Her eyes caught sight of the female robot that Winston seemed to be enamored with at the pool. “I see why you wanted to come in here.”
“I came in here to experience the ambience.”
“Are you sure you didn’t come in here to experience her.” Max said, nodding toward the svelte robot.
“I am incapable of experiencing her in the manner that you suggest.”
Max rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’d like to exchange data with her? Perhaps discuss the finer points of neural networks or quantum theory?”
“All of those subjects sound intriguing.”
“Then by all means, go talk to her.”
Winston hesitated a moment. A nervous look flashed on his composite smart-plastic face. “What would I say?”
Max shrugged. “I don’t know. How about start off with hello, my name is Winston.”
The robot looked skeptical. “That seems rather pedestrian. Are you sure something like that would work?”
Max thought about this for a moment. “On second thought, that’s a lame opener. You need something more intriguing.”
“I concur.”
Max didn’t feel like she was qualified to give a robot advice on how to pick up another robot, but she was going to figure something out. She thought about it for a long moment, then whispered in his ear.
Winston looked surprised. “And you think that will work?”
Max smiled. “Positive.”
Winston still looked skeptical, but he was going to trust Max’s advice. “Okay. If you say so. Wish me luck.”
“You’ll be fine,” Max said as she shoved him in the direction of the female robot.
Winston hesitantly approached the fem-bot. Max watched with glee as she appeared to be responding positively to his introduction. She grinned like a proud parent, but her grin quickly faded at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Dylan asked.
Max gave him a conflicted look. "I quit."
"Really?" Dylan asked incredulously. "It didn't look like you were on the wagon this afternoon.”
“That's why I'm on the wagon now."
Dylan stared at her in disbelief. "Max Mars with a hangover? What is the galaxy coming to?"
"The galaxy has been going to hell for a long time."
"True."
"I'll take a drink, mister,” a round, jolly woman said, seated at the bar next to Dylan. She wore entirely too much makeup and batted her long false lashes at him.
Dylan smiled at her. He motioned for the bartender's attention. "One more for the lady,” he said, pointing to the woman's glass.
"You are such a gentleman," she said.
“That’s debatable,” Dylan said modestly.
Max rolled her eyes. "Where's the blonde?"
"Daphne?" I think she's in the casino." It was easy to see the jealousy on Max's face. "I'm not traveling with her, if that's what you're getting at."
"Who you travel with is your own business,” Max said, trying to sound devoid of emotion.
“Yes it is.” Dylan sighed, frustrated he wasn't making any headway.
There was a long awkward moment of silence between them.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to go powder my nose."
Dylan smiled. "I'll be here."
Max pushed away from the bar and strolled to t
he women's room. The music was so loud in the club, she could barely hear herself think. The constant pounding wasn't doing her headache any favors.
She slipped into the restroom and the music subsided to a dull thump. She moved to the sink and stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. She didn't know what to do about Dylan. She wasn't good with feelings or relationships. Those things could get way more complicated than any battlefield.
Max pulled out a pocket makeup touch-up applicator. It wasn't as sophisticated as the full sized version, but the device could scan her face and reapply the necessary touch-ups. No matter what, she wanted to look good.
The jolly round woman stumbled into the ladies room. She caught sight of Max and decided to share some unsolicited advice. "Girl, have you lost your mind?"
"It's entirely possible."
"That man is fine."
Max had to agree. "He is pretty easy on the eyes.”
"I bet he's easy on the thighs too,” she said with a lascivious wink. "Girl, you need to get on it.”
Max sighed. "It's complicated."
"Honey, it can't be that complicated."
Max flashed an uncomfortable smile.
"Let me give you some advice. You need to get all the D that you can, while you can. Cause one day you'll be old and fat and you won’t be able to give that shit away. Trust me, I speak from experience."
Max forced another smile.
"I mean, it ain’t none of my business, and you can do what you want. But Carpe Dickus, girl. Seize the D!” The woman spun around and ambled toward one of the stalls.
Max chuckled and stepped out of the ladies room. She gazed at Winston across the club. He looked like he was having fun, still conversing with the fem-bot. Max's eyes flicked to Dylan who was still leaning against the bar. She thought about things long and hard for a moment then decided to slip out unannounced.
Max weaved her way through the corridors to an observation area on an exterior bulkhead. It was a large domed terrace that offered a stunning view of the void. Max leaned against the railing and stared out into space, contemplating her life. She had strong feelings for Dylan, there was no doubt about it. But she was hesitant to go anywhere near the “L” word. She sighed with frustration. This trip was supposed to be an escape from stressful situations, but so far it was anything but.
