by Andre, Marc
“What did he do?” I asked.
“He bit Mr. Fox,” Ellen said.
“Serves him right,” I said. “He’s the reason why I might have brain damage. I hope they locked Cotton in a separate cell than Mr. Fox.”
My three friends exchanged nervous glances.
“Mr. Fox isn’t in a cell,” Allen said.
“Why not!” I protested. “He’s a dangerous piety-freak!”
Allen and Ellen cringed. I had obviously said something very wrong. Hammond put his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Didn’t we save the ship?”
The three looked glum.
“No you didn’t.” Allen said. “You came very close but you typed ‘aborr’ instead of ‘abort.’ Cotton was right. Nimble fingers are not your strong point.”
“Oh no!” I said. My heart sank.
“A second after you botched the command, the ship underwent turbulent mediated centrifugal yaw acceleration.” Allen explained. “We dumped our fuel, and the stabilizer motors fired. No one’s sure where we are exactly. We’re probably three thousand kilometers west of the middle of nowhere.
“After we crash landed, Mr. Fox produced a phased plasma rifle in the forty watt range and took Dr. Zanders hostage. He forced Dr. Zanders into the cargo hold auxiliary and made him revive four other cryogens, all of whom are blessed males of the Brethren of the Celestial Heavens.
“The four others also somehow produced phased plasma rifles in the forty watt range. No one knows where they came from.”
I knew where they came from. They were stashed in the room that was sealed off from the ventilation ducts; the room right next to the utility where we retrieved the ho-bot.
“They over ran the bridge and took over the ship. They call this place the ‘New Celestial Utopia.’ Their first order of business was to deface the ship’s name plate.”
“Why would they do that?” I asked.
“They found the name of the ship offensive,” Ellen said.
“But why?” I asked.
“I didn’t know myself until I looked it up in the Archives,” Allen explained. “The phrase ‘Magic Sky Daddy’ was once used by atheists as a way of mocking the existence of God. As Earth became more secular and religious organizations more marginalized, the slight became less common and was ultimately forgotten.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know that. I just thought it was a cool name for a spaceship.”
“So did I,” said Hammond.
Allen continued his recount of the previous three weeks. “The blessed males have been forcing Dr. Zanders to revive the cryogens. One of them died, a very old man who was their leader.”
“Arturo Pfendler.” I said, remembering the name from the old news articles buried in Allen’s security file.
“Yes exactly,” Allen said. “The four guys who woke up first were livid. They were about to execute Dr. Zanders, saying he killed the man on purpose. Dr. Zanders protested, explaining a man his age should have never undergone cryostasis in the first place, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be on the ship, was he?” I asked. “They smuggled him aboard like Fiona Mammalot.”
“Exactly.” Allen said. “Fiona Mammalot was going to be one of Pfendler’s wives. She hasn’t been revived yet. They’re probably going to marry her off to another cult member.”
“How did Dr. Zanders survive?” I asked.
“They had him up against the side of the ship and were about to shoot him when Mr. Fox intervened. He believed Dr. Zanders, and he also pointed out the obvious fact that if they killed Dr. Zanders, no one else was going to be able to revive the rest of the cryogens.”
“Mr. Fox almost seemed happy to me when that Pfendler guy croaked.” Hammond said angrily and loudly. “With the old gomer dead, Fox will get to stay in charge.”
“Hammond, that may very well be the case,” Allen said softly, “but I suggest you keep your voice down!”
Hammond nodded, conceding that he had spoken rashly.
“Has Dr. Zanders finished defrosting all the cryogens?” I asked.
“No.” Allen said. “There are thousands of them, and it will take him months. Mary is assisting. We help when we can, but we are hopelessly unqualified for the task. So far, no one else has died.”
“There are a few other things you should know.” Ellen added.
“Yeah okay.”
“Gee, where to start?” Ellen said, scratching her head.
“Start with him.” Allen said pointing at me.
“What about me?” I asked.
“The other blessed males didn’t want Dr. Zanders attending to your care. They wanted him reviving cryogens full time. They were quite content to let you die, but Mr. Fox insisted that they let Dr. Zanders save you.”
“Why? Does he want to kill me himself for trying to interfere with his plans?”
“No, it’s not that.” Ellen said grimacing. Something was really making her uncomfortable. “Remember how I said Cotton bit Mr. Fox?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, it was at a wedding.”
“So?”
Ellen burst out into tears. “I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but it was your mother’s wedding. Mr. Fox is now your stepdad.”
Oddly I felt neither anger nor surprise. I simply shook my head and laughed.
“How come you’re not mad?” Ellen asked, confused.
“Mother always had lousy taste in men.” I said.
My friends laughed too. We heard footsteps from outside. My friends looked tense. I felt oddly relaxed, because of the brain damage perhaps.
“We better get going.” Ellen said softly. “We need to help Dr. Zanders. We’re really glad you’re okay.”
I smiled as my friends left the room.
The footsteps belonged to my mother. No words were exchanged between her and my friends. I guessed nobody could think of anything to say. Mother looked well rested and happy.
“I’m so glad you’re awake,” mother said. “Making your funeral preparations was a real drag. All these religious ceremonies for the dead are new to me and so confusing. Talk about a major headache.”
“I’m sincerely sorry to have inconvenienced you.” I said. “Next time I’m in a coma, I’ll be more considerate of your feelings.”
The sarcasm was lost on my mother. “Oh, no worries,” she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I’ll have so much more free time now that you are better.”
Mother sat down at the foot of my hospital bed. “Guess what?” she said. “I’ve got big news.”
Yes, I already know, I thought.
“I got married!” Mother was beaming. I never saw her smile so wide in her life.
“That is so amazing!” I said, rolling my eyes.
“I know I should have waited for you to wake up, but I got so caught up in the moment. Gerard got down on one knee and proposed. All his followers bowed their heads to pay homage. It was so romantic. I didn’t want to put it off. We had the ceremony the next day.”
“That must have been something.” I said.
“Well you’re rotten brother nearly ruined it. He bit Mr. Fox and gave him some sort of infection. His arm blew up like a big red balloon. When they let your brother out of his cage, you really need to talk to him about showing your stepfather the respect he deserves. And he does deserve respect. You know he’s running the place now. And guess what?”
“What?”
“Gerard doesn’t want me to work. Can you imagine that! Me, a trophy wife? Never in my wildest dreams!”
I pretended to be happy for my mother. I knew her attitude towards my former social studies teacher was going to change quickly and dramatically when Fiona Mammalot became his second wife.
“You know how you said Gerard has a freaky hairdo. Well guess what?”
“What?”
“He doesn’t. It was just a toupe
e. He’s really bald. I just love bald men. It’s so sexy.”
Try as I might, I couldn’t contain my gagging.
“Are you okay?” Mother asked, frowning.
“Oh, yes sorry. Doc said I’ll experience some nausea as a result of the head injury,” I lied.
“Oh,” mother smiled again. “There is one weird thing, though. Your stepfather walks around wearing this silly metal ring on his head. It makes him look so stupid. I’ll be the laughing stock of the New Celestial Utopia if he doesn’t take it off. I guess, as his wife, I’m going to have to put my foot down and insist he stop wearing it.”
Yes, good luck with that, I thought. I am sure these polygamous piety-freaks really respect women. “I’m sure he’ll understand,” I said.
Again, I heard footsteps at the door. Mother turned around. “Speak of the devil. It’s your stepfather.”
“We must never speak of the devil in the New Celestial Utopia.” Mr. Fox said sternly.
“Oh your stepfather is so silly.” Mother was completely oblivious to the fact that Mr. Fox wasn’t joking. “I’ll leave you two boys to chat. Anton, I’ll catch up with you later.”
With my mother gone, Mr. Fox and I simply stared at one another. Neither of us could think of anything to say. The silence was long and awkward.
Mr. Fox finally spoke up first. “You’re going to be glad you weren’t able to stop me back in the engine room. Although there was nothing you could have done. It was God’s will that we start anew on this planet.”
Yes, I’m sure it was God, and not you, who plotted and schemed, kidnapped boob models, and smuggled weapons on board the ship, I thought. I knew being uncooperative with Mr. Fox would only get me into serious trouble, so I smiled and nodded.
“Yes, that’s good,” Mr. Fox said. “I think you’re going to like it here. You stick to our Primary Principles, and I guarantee you will experience eternal joy.”
Again, I nodded and smiled. Mr. Fox turned to leave. Halfway through the doorway he turned back around and said, “You better have a long talk with your brother. A bad fate awaits boys who refuse to act like men when they come of age.”
Yes, I’m sure it does. I thought, remembering the article about how the Brethren of the Celestial Heavens chemically castrated boys to maintain a ratio of men to women consistent with their polygamist ideals. Only you jackasses probably don’t have chemicals here, do you? You’ll probably use a knife!
I nodded off back to sleep after Mr. Fox left. Hammond woke me up a few hours later. He was accompanied by another individual whom I didn’t recognize at first. His helmet head hairdo startled me at first, but at second glance, I recognized him as Frederick Chaucey, the man whom I assaulted by mistake in the engine room. I guessed correctly that, in the presence of the other piety-freaks, he wasn’t allowed to be bald, so they were forcing him to wear Mr. Fox’s old wig. Under the wig, he looked pathetically unhappy.
“I’m really sorry I hit you.” I said.
“It’s okay kid.” he replied. “From what I hear, I wasn’t hurt nearly as bad as you were. I’m glad somebody tried to stop these guys. I just wish you had your act together and knocked out the right man.”
Hammond raised the rails on the sides of my hospital bed, and Fred unlocked the wheels.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“Doc says you don’t need to be in the step down unit anymore,” Fred explained. “We’re taking you to the regular ward.”
On the way through the door, I realized the room I had just occupied was really a make shift tent fabricated from scraps of sheeting used on the ship to wrap containers. I had seen the fabric stored in spools in the cargo hold auxiliary.
Though it appeared to be twilight, it was uncomfortably hot outside. “How long have I been in the step down unit?” I asked.
“We only just transferred you there earlier today, when Dr. Zanders told us you were waking up,” Fred explained.
“So you had to move me through an outdoor area?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Explains the heat during my dream, I thought. I tried to sit up so I could look around, but was overcome with another spasm of sharp shooting back pain.
“Let me help you with that.” Hammond said.
He raised the head of my bed.
“Take a good look around you kid.” Fred said glumly.
The ship lay ahead of me. It rested off kilter, titled at an awkward angle. Half of the ship landed on a rocky foundation, and the other half was sinking into a giant fetid mud pit.
All around me, extending from horizon to horizon, I could see nothing but a putrid muddy bog. Small rocky islands peppered the landscape, popping out of the brown turbid water. Some sort of purple scrubby vegetation grew in places, none reaching higher than Hammond’s knee.
“Some paradise, huh kid!” Fred scoffed.
Some sort of armor-plated slug blocked our path. It croaked aggressively as we approached.
“Go on, get out of here!” Hammond shouted, kicking half-heartedly at it with his midget foot.
The armored slug leaped into the air and landed safely in a nearby mud puddle with a splash.
“They’re all over the place.” Hammond said. “You gotta watch out for ‘em. I’ve seen ‘em chew through strips of sheet metal.”
“Really?” I said.
“Oh yeah, we’re pretty sure they could be dangerous if they caught you off guard,” Fred said.
“On the bright side,” Hammond said, “you can cook ‘em and they don’t taste half bad. They kind of taste like crab.”
I couldn’t help but remember Hammond’s mangled practice sentence the first day of English class when he expressed his fear of getting pubic lice from a public beach. “Crab with a ‘k,’ or crab with a ‘c?’” I asked.
“Crab with a ‘c,’” Hammond said smiling, “the real stuff.”
The pair wheeled me into another make shift tent. Rips in the fabric walls let in the heat. Although warmer than the step down unit, the regular ward was still much more comfortable than being outside. I recognized my roommate by his beard, which wasn’t nearly as well trimmed as it used to be.
“Why is the Captain here?” I whispered. “What happened to him?”
“Piety-freaks took his liquor away.” Hammond said softly. “He got the shakes really bad, but he’s almost over them now.”
Fred locked out the wheels on my gurney.
“I’ll come find you later when I get a chance,” Hammond said as he left, “but I don’t know when that will be.”
I sat for a while, letting the new reality sink in. For an hour, I felt nothing but panic and dread. Eventually, I got better. Perhaps it was a direct result of the brain damage, but somehow I convinced myself that everything was going to be okay.
The captain studied me. “Were you on the crew?” he asked.
“No, but my mother was.”
“What did she do?”
“She cleaned the toilets. Now her new husband runs the place.”
“Oh!” the captain said soberly.
I put my head down and tried to sleep, but the sound of weeping kept me up.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“The ship was my command.” the captain said, tears streaming down his face. “How could I have let this happen?”
Because you were drunk the whole voyage, I thought.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “When I get better, I’ll find a way to get us out of this mess.”
