Gone for a Spin (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 16)

by J. Naomi Ay

  "Fixed?" Pym had never heard of hair which needed reparations. This too was a mystery beyond her scope of reference.

  "Forget it," Shelly cried, marching out of the store. "Oh, Jimmy dear, there you are! Did you get us reservations?"

  Pym couldn't hear the young man's answer as they had already walked off. That was just as well. Pym had grown weary of all these intrusions.

  Since commercial flights had stopped connecting at this spacebase, on most days, she was rarely interrupted anymore. Some days, Pym only spoke to the base's handful of permanent residents, and on others, she might speak to no one at all.

  This didn't bother Pym in the slightest. In fact, she had grown to prefer it, as she could spend her days dreaming of another life. Without the harshness of her reality foist upon her by customers, and other souls, she could pretend the Rehnorian Emperor shared her humble existence.

  In Pym's world of make-believe, Sehron de Kudisha slept upon the tiny cot in the shop's back room. It was small, as it was designed to fit just Pym. However, the two of them would lay there, Pym curled tightly against his chest, his big strong arms clutching her body to his. His feet would hang over the end, but he never minded that, as Pym's presence was worth suffering any discomfort.

  And, her loving-making would make up for even more. Although Pym wasn't entirely sure what she would do, she was certain he would enjoy it immensely. When one loved another as intently as she loved him, pleasure would know no bounds.

  Pym sighed heavily in her chair, and her three blue breasts heaved with longing. If only...her life had been nothing but If Onlies. From the first moment she had spied the man, on this very same spacebase, in this very same store, at this very same cash register, her heart could belong to no other.

  Not that anyone else had wanted her anyway. Pym was far too ugly to be loved by one who had good sight, or sight of any sort, except the kind that did not require eyes. No, the Rehnorian Emperor was unique in this, and now after more than six decades of wanting what could never be, after observing mankind at its best and its worst, Pym had decided she'd rather live inside her fantasy.

  To that end, Pym prepared herself a cup of tea, and wandered into the backroom of her shop.

  "Would you like a cup, Senya, my love?" she asked, knowing full and well how he preferred black coffee.

  "No, thank you, Pym," he murmured, preoccupied.

  Pym knew he was feeling a little low today. Sometimes, he still longed for the human, his first wife. She had died a miserable death, probably from that horrid virus, Robolo. Pym knew that tonight she would have to work her hardest to make him forget her, to uplift his mood. She'd have to pull out every trick in her book, and the books of many others.

  Pym's spine and nether regions warmed as she anticipated their escapades, for she had fervently studied Fifty Shades of Andorian Blue. Together they had tried out a few of those activities, testing positions and attempting this or that. Senya had enjoyed it, Pym thought, although he never said so. Neither did he say he didn’t enjoy it, so Pym concluded that it suited him just fine.

  Actually, Senya didn't say much at all when it came down to it. In fact, all the talking in Pym's head was amazingly one-sided. He was a quiet and contemplative man, who primarily kept his thoughts to himself. She understood that conversation was not his thing, and that was fine, as idle chatter got on her nerves.

  "We're out of coffee," Pym announced, blowing on her tea, and taking a sip. "The next supply ship won't be arriving until next week. Are you sure you wouldn't like something else? I could fix you a drink, or open a bottle of wine. Alright then, I shall get you a glass of your favorite Merlot."

  Pym poured a healthy serving from the box in her tiny, backroom fridge. Then, resuming her seat behind the register, she clinked the tea cup and wine glass together.

  "To us," she proudly proclaimed, leaning forward and smiling suggestively, although she knew he couldn't see her expression.

  "To us," Senya repeated inside her head, and in her mind, he forced a tiny smile.

  Pym dumped the glass of wine into her tea, and swallowed them both. A new round of talking heads began to discuss something on the vid. They were all quite excited, shouting at each other and declaring each other wrong or right.

  "What's going on?" she asked Senya. "What did you do now?"

  "A travel ban!" one of the heads was shrieking. "Everyone in the Empire is under strict quarantine. That's insane! That's so unfair! Our civil rights are being trampled as we speak."

  "It's the only way to get the virus under control," another head replied. "I believe the Emperor has taken the right course of action in order to stop this."

  "The Emperor is insane, and he's always been. Why doesn't he come on the vid and announce this for himself?"

  They continued to argue back and forth, so Pym tuned them out, chuckling lightly, and pouring the Emperor another splash.

  "You can't do a presser, can you?" she giggled. "Not when you're hiding here with me."

  "No, I can't," Senya replied. "Let's go to bed."

  Jim Mattson was standing outside the mini-mart in the empty mall, watching the old Andorian woman talk to herself. He couldn't understand a word she said, as the Andorian language of grunts, gurgles, and groans was nearly impossible for a human brain to comprehend. It didn't matter anyway, as he was preoccupied with the missive that had just arrived on his cell. It was from what was left of the Imperial Palace's communication's office, and declared, under Imperial Command, that an Empire-wide ground stop was now in place.

  "Fuck," Jim hissed under his breath. "We're totally screwed. We're stuck in this hell-hole spacebase until we die."

  The parts required for their broken plane could still arrive by drone transport, or replicator, or possibly, another means. However, their plane would not be allowed to depart. Everyone, including Duke Jim, were under strict quarantine for thirty days, in hopes that the Robolo virus would no longer spread.

  As the spacebase was out of nearly everything, and the hotel was in worse condition than a Motel 2, they might as well as contract the virus, and swiftly die.

  Chapter 13

  Bud Boykin had been married to Janet for almost a year when the Robolo virus began to run rampant throughout the country. Janet had been tending to Etan during the boy's recovery from a massive head injury a few years prior, working dutifully with him daily until he was almost back to normal.

  "Something odd is going on," Janet announced one afternoon, upon returning to their farmhouse near the lake.

  It had been Bud's home since before his first wife, Doris had passed, and Janet had been happy enough to move in there. She changed Doris's drapes, and replaced the carpet, adding her own personal touches to the furniture, and knick knacks on the shelves.

  Everything else, she left pretty much the same. Bud liked it the way it was, and while he wanted his new wife to be happy, he didn't want to change his routine. He liked to sit in his favorite chair and watch his vid, drinking his coffee in the same old mug, coffee which was brewed in the same old pot every morning.

  Janet respected that, which made their marriage start off nice and smooth. She even left that wedding picture of Bud and Doris on the hearth. That was the one in the burnished gilt frame that Doris had found at an antique store on sale. Next to it, Janet added a snapshot of her own.

  Janet, and her first husband, Jerry were standing on a moonlit beach with their arms wrapped around each other's waists. It was a nice pic, Bud had thought, although the three golden orbs and volcano erupting green lava in the background was a bit disconcerting to a guy who rarely left Ohio, let alone Planet Earth.

  "Oh, that place was nothing," Janet had scoffed, waving her hand dismissively, while turning the pic this way and that. She was trying to decide if it looked better with more or less natural light. "You should have heard Jerry talk about all the weird planets he visited while in Spaceforce. Of course, most of those conversations included Captain Perfect, and whatever trouble she got
into. Gawd, how I despised that woman."

  Janet sighed heavily whenever she mentioned this Captain Perfect, who Bud later discovered was the Rehnorian Empress.

  “Jerry was a schmuck, even at the end," Janet usually concluded, although she smiled fondly at the photo of the pair. "You're not a schmuck, Bud. You're a really nice guy. I’m so happy you came into my life."

  That comment always made Bud feel pretty good, although he suspected that if he had ever met Jerry, he would have liked the guy. He was fairly certain that Janet wouldn’t have thought the same way about his Doris, though. In fact, Bud was sure Janet would have had nothing to do with his high school sweetheart. After all, Janet was a big city nurse, while Doris had stayed at home to tend to their little farm.

  "Now, what do you need that picture for?" Bud had asked one day when Janet had placed another fancy frame upon the hearth.

  Inside was a pic of that strange alien fellow, the Rehnorian Emperor. He and his human wife, that Captain Perfect Janet so despised, were all decked out in all their fancy clothes, and looking important. It was the kind of portrait big-time folks took to hang in museums, and at the bank, or the post office right next to the flag.

  "They were friends of mine," Janet replied, running a finger across the frame, leaving a huge smudge of dust on the lady's face.

  From Bud's angle, it had looked like only the Emperor had been her friend, but of course, he never mentioned that to his new wife.

  "What's odd?" Bud called, while slipping his boots off, on the day that Janet told him about the virus. Like Janet, he had just arrived home, although he had been out hunting with his grandson, Zak. Between them, they had four ducks and two geese.

  Janet frowned at the dead birds hanging from a hook and dripping blood on the mudroom floor.

  "I hope you're not expecting me to clean those. If so, you're on your own there, buster. I don't pluck dead things."

  "But, you're a nurse," Zak replied, carrying the birds into the kitchen.

  "Outside." Bud pointed, "And, it’s your turn to clean the birds."

  "Aw!" Zak protested, now tracking mud in the opposite direction. The door slammed behind him, leaving Bud and Janet alone.

  "How's my boy, Etan doing today?" Bud asked, washing up at the sink.

  "He's doing fine, Bud," Janet replied, setting the plates out on the table. "He makes more progress everyday, but, there's something else going around that’s worrying me. There's talk of a virus all over the news. It's running rampant in the east, and I'm afraid it'll spread here next."

  Bud didn't know much about viruses, other than the kind that affected his chickens.

  "Is this a people virus, or an animal virus?" he asked, running a towel across his face and neck.

  "People, Bud. It's extremely lethal, and I'm getting worried."

  That conversation was only a week before the Robolo virus invaded Ohio, killing everyone in its path, and sending everyone else scurrying for the hills and uninhabited woodlands. Janet had been doing physical therapy exercises with Etan when Zak had been dismissed early from school.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, assuming the worst.

  Zak had misbehaved in some way, acted out, or cursed at a teacher. He might have held up a pencil and pointed it like a gun. Once before, he had been suspended for telling a girl that she looked pretty, which was sexist, insensitive, and chauvinistic.

  “Everyone got sent home,” Zak replied, heading to the fridge. “On account of some virus is going to make us all die. We’re not to come back until the government gives us the all clear.”

  Janet responded with a noise to show that she didn’t believe him.

  "Fess up. What did you really do? Tell me the truth."

  “I swear,” the boy insisted, his mouth already full of food.

  “Why are you eating cake? You haven’t had your dinner yet. That’s for your dessert tonight.”

  “If we’re going to die anyway, I might as well enjoy it while I can. Here, Etan.” Zak put the cake on the table for the two to share.

  “It’s true,” Etan agreed, shoving cake into his mouth. “Robolo is going to kill everyone, except us. We'll be okay."

  Janet hadn’t a clue how Etan knew this, for he never seemed interested in the news, yet the boy had an odd way of knowing crazy things. Although, it could be due to the tremendous amount of time spent on Footbook.

  “Robolo,” she repeated under her breath, wondering where it came from, and how it could be stopped, or if it could be stopped at all.

  That night, the boys’ parents failed to come home from work, so Janet stayed and sat on the living room couch. She didn’t sleep a wink, but rather spent all night researching the Robolo virus and its symptoms. By morning, it was apparent that what Zak had said was true.

  Bud arrived early the next day, his pickup packed with food and essentials. Bud’s granddaddy, or maybe it was his great-granddaddy, had been a prepper, and so the old farmhouse was always stocked with food and water enough for six months. He had plenty of guns for everyone, and an army's worth of ammo, just in case they ever came under siege.

  “We’re heading west,” he declared, loading up Janet and the boys. “We’re going to outrun this virus. We’ll camp in the mountains until it’s safe.”

  “What about the kids’ parents?” Janet protested. “Let’s wait for them to come home.”

  “Too late.” Bud shook his head. “They were in the city. They’re probably gone.”

  “I’ll leave a note anyway,” Janet insisted. “Where should I tell them we’re going?”

  “Bear Lake,” Bud decided, pulling the name out of his head. About sixty years ago, he recalled attending a scout camp there. He had always liked it, and wanted to go back.

  After spending two days driving nonstop, the Boykins arrived at the campsite only a day after Jimmy’s Chariot had plummeted into the lake.

  “Your friend was able to fix the batteries.” Bud waved the flashlight around, illuminating the dark forest of Douglas Fir trees. “That’s pretty amazing. All she did was hold them in her hands.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Janet grumbled. “She never could do stuff like that before. Of course, she looks better now than she did forty years ago, too. Did you see how tight her face was, Bud? Obviously, she had some work done. If she smiled, her skin would probably crack.”

  “It’s true,” Etan replied.

  “Her face would crack?” Zak asked.

  “I thought she was pretty good looking for an old gal, but not as nice as my bride, Janet.”

  Although he didn’t dare breathe a word, Bud thought that Janet’s friend was about as nice looking as any woman could be. For some odd reason, the woman reminded him of a horse. Not an old farm horse, mind you, but a Friesen, or one of those breeds that were almost too pretty to look at. Janet was like his old mare, sturdy and dependable, although occasionally she tossed her head, or kicked him in the shins.

  “What’s true?” Janet demanded, turning back to Etan who was peering in from the campertop window.

  “She fixed the batteries. She can do a lot of things. She’s One of Them.”

  “You’re one of them,” Zak scoffed, punching his brother in the arm. “Or, at least you act like you’re possessed by an alien creature.”

  “We should hang around them,” Etan continued, ignoring his brother’s taunts. “They’ll keep us safe from the virus. Goodnight Grandpa. Goodnight Janet. I’ve got to check my news feed. Hey jerk. Give me back my tablet!”

  “Come get it,” Zak chortled, as Etan disappeared.

  As much as Janet disliked Captain Perfect, she too felt that the Boykins ought to stay around Katie and her collection. Janet told herself there ought to be safety in numbers, and Katie had always been really good with a gun.

  “They are here for a reason,” she murmured to Bud, laying down across the truck’s bench seat. “Same as us. Someone put us together, maybe to stop this thing.”

  Katie couldn’t g
et it out of her head either. She didn’t believe in coincidences, and this encounter with Janet in the forest was obviously more than a random happenstance. She also suspected it had to do with the virus, although she hadn’t a clue how she might be able to help. Senya could, though. If anyone in the galaxy could stop this thing, it would be him.

  “Call him,” she ordered, bursting back through the RV’s door. “Gabe, you need to contact him immediately, and tell him what’s going on here on Earth. Tell him he needs to stop this virus before it kills the entire population.”

  “What?” Gabe murmured, not even bothering to shift his eyes from the camper’s vid. Two women were displayed upon it in all of their naked glory.

  In fact, all four of those men were staring as if they had never seen such a thing before. For a moment, Katie stopped and stared back, too. Two blondes were sitting in chairs, conversing as if they were at a meeting in a board room, or, interviewing a potential candidate for a job.

  “So, tell me, Steve,” one of them was saying. “What is your favorite vid show and why?”

  “Vid?” Shika chuckled, huskily. “That’s got to be you, girls. I don’t think I’ve seen anything better than this in a long time.”

  “What about you, Rentichka?” the other girl asked. “You like our little show?”

  “Uh,” Rent coughed, his face turning bright red. “Yes, I really do.”

  “I like it, too,” Arsan interrupted. “I like it a lot.”

  “Me too,” Gabe agreed, until Katie snapped off the vid.

  “What the hell are you guys doing?” she demanded. “No. Wait. Don’t tell me.”

  “Hey,” Rent protested. “I was talking to Ivanka. That cost me money.”

  “Your future daughter-in-law, Cassie,” Gabe chuckled. “Pay to play, and a full ninety-percent human. That’s more than anyone else in this room.”

  “Fine. Do what you want.” Katie stormed back out the door, and through the dark forest to the lake.