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

by J. Naomi Ay

  "No, no, no!" She wept, clinging to the overhead bin.

  "Do you want to live or not?"

  "No!"

  "Fine. Suit yourself."

  As Senya drizzled some blood between the passed-out Jullee's lips, a wave of guilt overcame him, as he knew it would. He'd have to save Sara, no matter how hard she might protest.

  "Blech!" Jullee stirred, and spat out the blood.

  "Don't do that!" Senya roared. "I haven't an endless supply, especially when I must acquire it with a plastic spork!"

  Just then, the ship rocked, the engines strained, and something thumped against the hull, diverting his attention from the hysterical girls.

  "What's that?" Sara wailed.

  "I'm going to the cockpit," Senya replied, handing the cup to Jullee. "You must drink this, both of you, or you shall die."

  Jullee, having regained her senses, stared at the bloody cup with distaste.

  "Can we add something to it? I mean, like something with a better flavor?"

  "Go ahead," Senya called, already at the front of the plane.

  While Jullee and Sara managed to choke down a vile concoction of blood and cherry flavored diet coke, Senya was sitting at the helm, wondering what in the hell he ought to do. He had never flown a spaceplane before in this life. Or any other life for that matter. Up until now, he had always been fortunate enough to sit in the back, whilst his wife or someone else directed the controls.

  "Can't be that difficult," he muttered, as claxons sounded, and the hull shook with the impact of another asteroid or two. In fact, there were a bloody lot of rocks all heading precisely in their direction. Without pilots to adjust the course, the ship had veered into an asteroid belt, only narrowly missing one or two that might have destroyed them.

  Senya tried to remember the basics of interstellar flight control. At one time or another, he had been involved in the design and manufacturer of SdK spaceplanes and starships. However, beyond the rudimentary elements, he really didn't know what to do. Fortunately, or not, a voice erupted into the cockpit.

  "United StarLines Heavy," the voice called. "Acknowledge receipt of the following ground stop communication. All planes in the Empire are immediately required to proceed to the nearest spacebase without deviation. Over."

  "Right," Senya replied. "However, we are currently unable to do so."

  "Who is this?" the voice demanded. "Identify."

  "Uh...well...actually, this is United StarLines Heavy, and this is...uh...Barlan Rando at the controls. All crew and passengers are dead, excepting myself, and two young women."

  "Roger that," the voice replied, followed by a long pause. “The actor? Aren’t you dead?”

  “Indeed, inside I most certainly am. However, at this moment, I am the only one in the cockpit of this spaceplane.”

  “Roger that,” the voice repeated. “Please standby.”

  Senya used that standby opportunity to ascertain how to steer, at which point he quickly veered the spacecraft out of the asteroid field.

  "That wasn't so difficult," he decided, just as the voice interrupted again.

  "Mr. Rando, this is Imperial SpaceNavy Command. Please identify the cause of the flight crew's demise."

  "The Robolo virus," Senya said, which in hindsight, announcing that he was aboard a death-plane infested with a lethal contagion, wasn’t all that smart.

  "Roger, that. Robolo confirmed. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Rando. SpaceNavy Command over and out."

  "Well, you totally blew that one, Mika." A new voice sighed heavily beside him.

  "What do you mean?" Senya readjusted the plane's track, and set the course back to Planet Earth.

  "You just told SpaceNavy Command that your ship is infected with the virus," Uri said, materializing in the vacant co-pilot's seat. "What do you think they're going to do about it now?"

  Senya didn't respond immediately, even though the answer was plainly obvious, and it wasn’t good.

  "They intend to destroy this plane before we ever get to a populated spaceport. Kari-fa! They are just following my orders."

  He fumbled through his cloak pockets, desperate for a cigarette, while recognizing the terrible conundrum he now faced. He could dock the plane at Spaceport Earth, and kill everyone around, or he could let the SpaceNavy annihilate him and the girls, accomplishing nothing.

  "Smoking on board a commercial spaceplane is an Imperial offense," Uri snickered. "And, you were going to abstain from all vices and intoxicants, didn’t you say?"

  "So, who the fuck is going to arrest me?" Senya snapped, lighting the cig with a flick of his finger, pleased that this was something he could still do. "Tobacco is not an intoxicant. I would dearly love some Horkin, but you see, I have not summoned that. Furthermore, tobacco has redeeming health benefits."

  "Such as what?"

  Such as what? Senya paused to think, before inhaling a long drag of the pungent smoke. Such as what? He tried to recall exactly what those health benefits were.

  There was something beneficial to tobacco. He knew with certainty there had been. It was on the very tip of his tongue, on the outskirts of his memory, on the surface of his aged, and struggling brain.

  It was something in the tobacco plant, a protein, or was it an amino acid? It caused the plant to produce antibodies when confronted with a viral threat. Antibodies? Antibodies which could be replicated and turned into a vaccine!

  "Kari-fa!" Senya gasped. "He is brilliant, is He not?"

  "He is," Uri agreed. "Well done, Mika. You solved the riddle, and you managed to do so in record time."

  "I need to call Taner, immediately." Senya reached for his cell, only to discover he didn't have a signal. He could hail SpaceNavy Command on Channel 13, but he doubted they'd connect him with the Duke of Turko. "Uri, would you please do me a favor?"

  "Not again," the cherub groaned. "What do I look like, a telephone booth? Or, perhaps you are mistaking me for our brother who is in communications?"

  "Please go to Taner, and tell him exactly what I have recalled. SdK must develop a vaccine forthwith using the proteins generated in tobacco plants."

  "Alright, I'm going," Uri replied, rising from his seat with a flutter of tiny silver wings. "But, you owe me, Mika. You owe me big. When you become yourself again, I expect a few favors in return."

  "Like what?"

  "Well, starting with a promotion beyond cherub! I’d also like a wife, because the fraternal love of my brothers is simply not enough. And, lastly, I want to learn how to do that finger thing." He waved his hand in the air, and pointed at the plane’s controls. “On. Off. You see, it does nothing.”

  "Of course," Senya chuckled, taking a long drag on his cigarette. For the first time in what seemed like centuries, he had feelings of both joy and hope. He would end this plague of Robolo, thus spurning Luka's latest attempt to decimate mankind.

  After which, Senya would get his old job back, along with his magnificent silver wings. He might even recover all those nifty supernatural abilities that made him so very special. He would put Luka in his place once and for all, and then, reclaim his own beloved wife, perhaps enabling her to regain her lost wings, too.

  This elated feeling lasted only briefly, as the console in front of him started to beep, and the claxon overhead began to clamor once again. Jullee and Sara raced into the cockpit, just as an Imperial SpaceNavy Starship came into view, which was only seconds before they launched a barrage of missiles at the trio.

  Chapter 17

  The sun shone in through the window of the RV’s tiny bedroom, waking Katie from what had been a hitherto restful, sound sleep. In fact, she hadn’t slept so well in many months, perhaps even several years, at least not since she had lain next to her husband.

  So deep was Katie’s slumber, she couldn’t recall any dreams. All she knew was for a moment, for that brief interlude between sleep and wakefulness, she had been at peace. She had been happy. Her soul was content. She was in the arms of her beloved, and the
world was set right, the Universe was in balance.

  However, now that she was awake, along with the morning sunlight, reality slammed into her face like a blast of frigid air. Her calmness and serenity shattered into pieces once again.

  “Crap,” Katie moaned. “I’m still here.”

  Here, she was in the double bed in the front section of the RV, and although the door was shut, the snores of four men resonated off the walls. Had Katie bothered to look, she would have seen that Shika was curled upon the sofa, his big feet hanging over the end for lack of space. Gabe was on the kitchen table, wrapped in a blue tablecloth, although both the table and the cloth were too small. However, he was snoring placidly, apparently comfortable in a position that would have challenged anyone else, while Rent and Arsan were relegated to whatever space they could squeeze into on the floor.

  It had been a late night for all of them. For hours, after Katie had returned from the lake, the men were still chatting with the naked, ninety-percent human, mail order brides.

  “We take Mastercard, Visa, and Galaxy Express,” the one called Ivanka was saying. “Do you wish to purchase me now, my Rentichka? I am on sale.”

  “Steve, do you have any of those cards?” Rent implored his brother, for he had never bothered to acquire one for himself.

  When one was a prince, what need did he have for lines of credit, or plastic cards? All one did was wave a finger, or command a retainer to do as he had bid.

  “Pay my bill,” the prince would command, and it was done.

  Actually, that wasn't the reason Rent didn't have any cards, as he never experienced any of those princely luxuries. During his term as Imperial Prince the treasury was nearly bankrupt. His own credit score was appalling from neglecting to pay the utility bills at his old apartment, so every application for personal credit was swiftly denied.

  “You guys make me sick,” Katie spat, before slamming the door to her room.

  Immediately, she was overcome with maternal guilt. After all, these men were her sons, and she loved them despite how idiotically they may act. Probably, this was all her fault anyway. Had she been home when they were young and raised them in a proper family setting, they wouldn’t now be looking for love in all the wrong places.

  As for Gabe and Arsan, Katie's feelings were confused at best. At worst, she found the both of them completely repulsive. Her relationship with Gabe was a terrible mistake, a moment of hasty, immoral, and ill-advised action during a period when she was either vulnerable, or very drunk.

  However, Gabe did have a certain charm, and when he spoke, he could be positively hypnotic. Also, he was here for her, when no one else had been, although, that didn’t give either of them license to do what they had done.

  “Get up!” she hollered, jumping out of bed, and interrupting the snoring concert in the adjoining room. “We’ve got work to do, and we’ve already wasted too much time. People are dying while you guys sleep until noon.”

  This was met with a chorus of grunts and groans, followed by a few mumbled “Whys?” and “What the hecks?”

  “Right!” Gabe declared, jolting upright with his usual broad smile. “Good morning, Cassie. You’re looking lovely today, positively angelic.”

  "Thank you, Gabe." Katie stepped over Rent, who was still snoring loudly in the middle of the floor. She made her way to the tiny loo at the back of the rig, passing the even tinier kitchen, where the empty jar of olives sat desolate upon the counter.

  As she did so, Katie caught a glimpse of herself in the refrigerator’s stainless steel surface, shuddering at the reflection displayed therein. Angelic would hardly be the appropriate word to describe the frightful hair, and swollen puffy eyes. In fact, demonic was a better adjective for characterizing her appearance.

  However, her beauty was the least of Katie's concerns that morning, for when she returned a few minutes later, the men were already prepping for a fight.

  “Get your feet out of my face, Rent,” Arsan was snapping, while slapping at the elder’s misplaced toes.

  "Fuck you, Arsan," Rent grumbled, kicking the boy in the face.

  “Don’t speak to your uncle that way,” Katie hissed, her ire already climbing, for the only thing worse than an RV full of men was a belligerent teenage boy. “Have some respect for your elder.”

  "Who are you speaking to, Cassie?" Gabe asked. "If you look at it one way, Rent is Arsan's uncle, but, if you look at it another way, it's actually the other way around."

  Arsan laughed at this, and was joined by Gabe, which then prompted the two to high-five.

  "I can't keep any of this straight, especially not first thing in the morning." Katie threw her hands up in air. "Why oh why didn't I listen to my mother, and marry normal, human Jerry Waldman?"

  "Ah Cassie," Gabe chuckled. "That's not how time was supposed to happen. Don’t you understand that it has to be the way it’s supposed to be?"

  "That’s too bad," Shika muttered, pulling himself up to a sit. "Everyday, I'm wishing more and more that you would have let me drown."

  "It's not too late for that," Arsan offered. "The lake is still right outside."

  "That's enough," Katie declared. "Everyone get dressed. I'm going to head to the nearest town to get us more food. You can help by going fishing or hunting, or look for edible plants. I'm sure these woods have plenty of game birds or frogs that taste just like chicken."

  "I'm a vegetarian," Arsan announced, scrunching up his face.

  "So, starve," Shika replied. “Or, go find another jar of olives.”

  "You have a job," Katie glared at the boy, "You said you were going to figure out how to stop this virus."

  "Me? No. I said I’ll try to remember.”

  "That's your thing, though, isn't it?" Rent asked, pulling himself up to his feet, and running a hand through his dishevelled mop of dark blonde curls. "You cure people. You've got a healing touch."

  "Yeah, but I can only do it to one at a time."

  "Well, figure out how to do it to a lot more than that," Katie ordered, grabbing her coat, and heading out the door.

  "Hey, Mom," Shika called. "Any chance you can grab me a pack of cigarettes?"

  “Shika, I think it’s about time you kicked the habit!”

  “Yeah, but right now, I need some tobacco.”

  "Wait!" Gabe called, just as the door nearly slammed. "You can't go into town dressed like that. You need to look like a Rossorian, otherwise, they might single you out."

  Katie pulled up sharply as he approached with the blue tablecloth, the closest thing to a Rossorian cloak in the RV.

  "Really?" Katie scoffed as he tossed it over her head, and secured it around her neck with a shoelace.

  "Little Blue Riding Hood," he kissed her cheek. "Beware of hungry snakes, and murderous eagles, especially if they look anything like my brothers. Do you want me to come with you?"

  "We only have one tablecloth. Furthermore, you need to help Arsan remember the virus’s cure."

  "I know," Gabe replied. "But, thinking is not my thing."

  "Maybe you ought to ring the guy whose department that would be?"

  "That's Uri’el, the cherub, but Mika has him working overtime right now. Furthermore, I doubt he'd come, as he never liked you very much either."

  Chapter 18

  "Do something!" Sara screamed, as a missile flew by their window. It impacted the spaceplane's port side propulsion unit, shattering it in to pieces, and disabling the craft. A second missile followed, doing the same to the starboard engine. The little ship bounced and rocked, metal clanging against the hull. Smoke filled the cabin, and the crackling of burning wires sounded from somewhere overhead.

  "Why are they shooting at us?" Jullee shrieked. "Do they think we're their enemies?"

  "They are following orders," Senya grumbled, pulling himself to his feet. “Mine.”

  His brief good mood had evaporated, along with most of the oxygen in the cabin. Only momentarily, the plane was about to be destroyed. However,
Senya wasn't worried for himself. He supposed that in one way or another, he could put himself someplace else. The issue, of course, was what would happen to Sara. He mustn't let her die. It simply wasn't her time, and even if it was, he'd catch hell from his wife if he let it happen.

  "I've been demoted to a guardian angel, and that’s all I am able to do," he mumbled, while wondering if there was an escape pod on this bloody plane. Wasn't it required on all intergalactic vessels? Hadn’t that been a safety concern of his SpaceNavy vessel inspectors? The SdK planes stowed the auxiliary units in the aft, on a deck accessible through the port side galley. This wasn't an SdK plane though, so where in the hell would the pod be?

  "Find it," he ordered the girls. "And, quickly."

  "What does it look like?" Jullee screamed, her voice grating on Senya's nerves.

  "How the fuck should I know? I can't see a bloody thing. ‘Tis probably in a closet and labeled POD.”

  “Come on,” Sara waved to Jullee, “Let’s go check in back. I've been in several crashes. I'm used to this. "

  Just then, another missile impacted the ship's hull, followed by an explosion right above their heads. Jullee yelled again, and raced back into the passenger cabin.

  "I'm looking for it!" she shrieked. "I'm going to save us."

  "Aren’t you coming?" Sara asked Senya, her hand upon the cockpit door.

  Senya hesitated for half a second. Perhaps, he shouldn’t.

  "I know who you are," Sara continued. "And, I'm not afraid anymore. I knew as soon as you made us drink your blood, that you’re…you’re him. And, I know who you really are, too. Granny Garinka once told me the truth, even though at the time, I thought she was off her rocker."

  "Well, don't tell your grandma, Katie," Senya replied. "We don't want to shock her off her rocker, and Garinka was always a bit insane."