by Sarah Noffke
“I’m guessing if you get some sleep, you’ll be back to your spritely self.” Bailey hooked her arm through Lewis’s and led him out of the Medical Center. “Because even without the upgrade, you’re still sharper than anyone I know.”
Lewis allowed himself to be led away and smiled down at Bailey. “Well, thanks. If you’re up for it, then I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. What’s the subject?”
Lewis’s smiling expression turned serious. “DJ.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dining Hall, Ricky Bobby, Hapeti System
“I don’t want to call you ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’,” Dejoure explained. “And I know you’re not married. Hell, you’re not even together. It’s just that you’re the ones who rescued me and gave me this new life.”
“Watch your mouth then, kiddo, if you want us as your parental figures,” Lewis stated.
Dejoure smiled. “I know that someone has to make decisions for me, and I want that. I’m sort of tired of being in charge of everything.”
“Like the kitchen?” Bailey asked.
The girl shook her head. “No, I want control of that. I only want someone to tell me what I should learn and what I should be doing some of the time. I’m old enough to know that there are things I don’t even know I don’t know about. I need someone to teach me, and I’d like it to be a human. Ricky Bobby can tell me things, but I’d like a woman to teach me how to be one and what it’s like.” She looked meaningfully at Bailey and then to Lewis. “And I need someone to explain things to me. To warn me about the things that might hurt me out there.” She blushed. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. I just want…”
“Something to belong to,” Lewis said, finishing her sentence. “We all need that. I totally get it.” There was still so much reluctance in his tone.
“And I do too,” Bailey said.
She hadn’t known what to say when Lewis told her what Dejoure wanted. She wasn’t sure she could do it; it would mean laying down roots here on Ricky Bobby. This would be her forever home. She’d never had that, hadn’t thought she wanted it. However, she couldn’t say no to Dejoure. And in truth, this might be the one way to get her to stay in one place, to commit.
Lewis took Dejoure’s hand. “I’m honored. We both are. However, can you give me some time to think about it? I’m a wanted fugitive, and I’m kind of thinking you could do better.”
Dejoure shook her head, her large smile lighting up her eyes. “I can’t do better, but yes. Both of you think about it and let me know later, or whenever.”
Pip’s clapping grabbed everyone’s attention. “Okay, gang, it’s time for the fondue party to begin.” He waved everyone into the dining hall, where he’d been buzzing around, working ferociously.
“Did he say fondue?” Bailey asked Lewis. “What is that?”
“It’s only the best thing from the 1950s,” Pip answered. He was wearing a kilt and a T-shirt that read, ‘Lettuce: the taste of sadness’.
“Is your outfit from the 1950s too?” Bailey asked.
Pip looked down at the plaid kilt that clashed with the T-shirt. “No, but I started my own T-shirt business. If anyone wants to buy in, let me know. We use only organic cotton, and put sustainability and fashion at the core of our mission statement.”
“What’s your business called?” Lewis asked, looking around at the various pots on the tables, their contents simmering.
“Pimping Pip’s Apparel,” the AI answered.
“That’s a mouthful,” Bailey joked.
“That’s what she said,” he retorted with a laugh.
“The T-shirts are pretty cozy,” Liesel remarked, pulling on her own T-shirt. It had a picture of llama doing yoga and under that, it read, ‘Llamaste’.
“When do you have time to run a T-shirt business and throw a fondue party?” Bailey asked.
“Oh, I also printed all those remaining in the database,” Pip stated. “And I made enough doses of the formula for each child to have a year’s supply.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” Lewis said.
“What’s impressive is that you all get your own vat of cheese,” Pip said, throwing his arms wide to indicate the rows of tables. “Ages ago, I ordered fondue pots so we could have a party with the crew. Well, that was for a party of three-hundred people, but there’s only eight of us.”
Lewis looked around at the group who’d shown up—everyone but Hatch. He was busy in his lab and, in his words, ‘I don’t do parties when there is work to be done. And there’s always work to be done.’
“How does this work?” Vitos asked, stepping forward and staring into the pot.
Pip clapped his hands. “I’m so glad you asked. I’ve set up pots with cheese and also chocolate.” He picked up a fork and stuck it in a piece of bread. “You take your choice of breads and dip them in the vats of cheese, then you eat. Easy peasy.” Pip swirled the bread in the cheese and then popped it into his mouth.
Bailey leaned in close to Lewis. “Can he technically eat?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I guess so.”
“I also have cookies, marshmallows, pound cake and brownies that you can dip in the chocolate fondue,” Pip explained. He pointed to a tray of fruits and vegetables. “And for you, Liesel Diesel, I have your favorites.”
“Is the cheese vegan?” Liesel asked.
Pip looked up and to the right. “Ummm…yes. I ground the cashews myself.”
“He’s lying,” Lewis whispered.
“Duh,” Bailey replied. “And it doesn’t really matter… I caught Liesel eating a meatball sub the other day. The pregnancy has taken over.”
“I’m not judging,” Lewis stated.
“Okay, get to work,” Pip cheered. “The first one to finish a pot of cheese wins a T-shirt.”
Bailey settled down next to the closest pot, her eyes looking longingly at the bubbling cheese. “I’m winning you that T-shirt, Lewis.”
“I have no doubt that you can eat a whole cauldron of cheese all by yourself,” Lewis said, taking the seat opposite of her.
“I can probably eat two,” she bragged. “But today, I’ll share with you.”
She stuck the forked instrument into a round piece of pretzel bread. The smell of cheddar and garlic rose up from the fondue pot. Bailey swirled the bread around in the mixture and lifted it up, the long string of gooey cheese reaching down into the pot. She eyed it hungrily before taking a bite.
“Okay, this is the best idea Pip has had so far,” she decided.
Lewis stabbed at a piece of celery, not sure about the communal pot of cheese. He wasn’t good at sharing, not since Melanie.
“So, the witch wasn’t in Starboards when we blew it up,” he told Bailey.
She pursed her lips, disappointment in her eyes. “I’m sorry. But don’t worry, we’re going to get her.”
He nodded. “Especially now that she’s probably penniless and looking for another scam. She’ll mess up, and when she does, I’ll be there to push her over the cliff.”
He thought of the horrid analogy she’d made about how he was the ledge she needed to jump from. Little did she know her parachute had holes in it. He told Bailey about his idea regarding the whereabouts of the diamond as he struggled to spear a carrot.
“So that’s why Melanie was at that bar, Prickly Cactus, asking about Monstre Corp,” Bailey guessed.
“I think so. She knew she couldn’t sell the diamond in the Pan galaxy. Gringotts would have figured that out; he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.”
“So she found a way into Precious galaxy and hunted around, looking for a tycoon to sell it to,” Bailey mused aloud.
Lewis dipped the carrot in the cheese and twirled it around, trying to wrap it up. “And she probably found out about Monstre Corp somehow. She’s good at hunting for information and getting it out of people, which is why I mistakenly thought she’d make a good detective.”
“And somehow she got a m
eeting with Vance and convinced him to buy the diamond,” Bailey continued through a mouthful of bread and cheese.
“But Vance knew that Starboards was a throw-away company,” Lewis picked up the thread, “like all the others that he uses up and throws out. So he traded her that one shell company for the diamond. He was probably done with Starboards, anyway, so it was a win-win.”
“Yes, it was starting to cause Monstre, his precious company, some vulnerability,” Bailey stated.
“Now the question is what is Vance going to do with the diamond,” Lewis said.
“What can you do with it, anyway?”
He shrugged. “That’s a good question for Hatch. But it’s etheric energy, so I suspect it holds unique power.”
“And it’s large,” she added.
“Right, so a lot of power.” Lewis speared a piece of broccoli and dipped it into the vat. He leaned forward, conspiratorially. “So, I don’t really get the draw of this fondue stuff. It’s only some simmering cheese.”
Bailey pointed at him with her fork. “That’s because you keep eating dumb vegetables. Put down the broccoli, Harlowe.” She nodded at the bowl of bread. “Stick some of that sourdough in the cheese, and you’ll get what the big deal is.”
He obeyed, putting down his fork and picking up a new one. He pierced the bread, which was much easier to get on the tines, and dipped it into the cheese.
Behind them, Pip emitted a loud scream. Lewis spun around. The AI was holding his hands to his chest and breathing rapidly. Bailey was already on her feet, her gun drawn.
“What is it?” she demanded.
Dejoure was giggling on the far side of the table, her hands over her mouth. Everyone else was only looking at Pip with keen interest.
Pip bent over and picked up a rubber snake from his chair, holding it in the air. “Dejoure! This is from you, isn’t it?”
The girl laughed louder. “I’m returning the favor, Uncle Pip.”
Pip shook his other fist at her. “Just you wait. Your time will come.”
“I’ll sleep with one eye open,” she retorted.
Penrae, who had taken the form of a Tuetian, gave Dejoure a look of confusion. “You two are pranking each other, is that right?”
“Yeah, it’s been an ongoing thing,” Dejoure explained.
“And you use a rubber snake?” Penrae asked.
Dejoure blushed, realizing her mistake. “I’m sorry. We’re not saying that snakes are scary. It’s just—”
“Snakes are scary,” Vitos said beside Penrae. “They are a Tuetian’s biggest natural predator.”
“Yes, but you can fly to get away from them by the water,” Penrae said soothingly.
“Well, most Tuetians can,” Vitos amended in a low voice.
“Pen is going to help you with your flying,” Dejoure said. “That’s why she took that form. We have this whole plan for how you can practice.”
Vitos nodded, not looking entirely appeased at this news.
Pip was still holding the snake in the air, like trying to decide what to do with it. Lewis thought it did look very life-like, and if he’d found it in his chair, he might have jumped too.
He laughed and turned back to Bailey. “So what are we going to tell DJ? It’s such a weird request.”
Bailey rolled her eyes at him. “What do you mean? We’re going to tell her yes, we just have to think about the logistics.”
“You and I can’t be parents,” he argued. “I haven’t known you that long. And you don’t even share a pot of fondue well, I’m not sure we can share parenting responsibilities.”
Bailey swiped her bread along the side, getting the last remaining bit of cheese. “Yeah, oops. Sorry. I was really hungry. I think it’s the upgrade.”
Lewis laughed. “And what was your excuse before?”
“Hey, maybe I’m still growing. The doctor says I could grow another fourteen inches.” Bailey held up her hand, like the star student in a class. “Pip, I finished my fondue first. Lewis didn’t help; he mostly chewed on broccoli.”
Pip clapped, hurrying over to the corner where he had supplies stored. “Bravo!” he cheered, then he returned carrying a new pot of fondue, this one with dark chocolate. He replaced the empty pot and pointed to the cookies and other dessert items. “It looks like you’re ready for the chocolate course.”
“Cheese course. Chocolate course,” Bailey said, a little starry-eyed. “I could get used to this.”
“I know, right!” Pip pulled at the T-shirt that was slung over his shoulder and presented it to Bailey. “And you won this! If anyone asks, tell them you got it at Pimping Pip’s Apparel, where the prices are always cheap and the shirts are clever, just like the perfect date.”
“Thanks.” Bailey opened up the shirt and read the words printed on the front. “‘People hate when sentences don’t end in the way they potato’.”
Lewis laughed. “Very clever.”
Bailey wadded up the shirt and threw it across the table at him. “That baby is all yours. You can cycle it into your wardrobe.”
He looked down at his button-up shirt and slacks. “Yeah, I’m not really a T-shirt kind of person. I think it would look much better over your combat suit. You can wear it on casual Friday.”
Pip turned, his chin high in the air. “People are already fighting over my T-shirts.”
Bailey stuck a piece of pound cake with her fork and dipped it into the chocolate. “Anyway, we can’t tell DJ no. I know it’s a strange request, but if you think about it, it’s only a formality. She wants to have someone who signs her school forms and tells her she has to go to bed.”
Lewis eyed the chocolate, suddenly not hungry. “But that could be anyone. It doesn’t have to be us.”
“But she wants it to be us. And if we’re honest, we both know that she’s mature enough to raise herself, but she shouldn’t have to.”
He nodded. “It’s just that, if I take on the responsibility, then—”
“You’d have to stay, and you’re not sure you want to,” Bailey said, interrupting him.
“Yeah, I figured you understood.”
Bailey scooted a mound of strawberries away from the brownie bites with her fork, like they were contaminated with an incurable disease. “I get it. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we finish this mission. However, if I lay out my options, I know I want to stay here. I told you we were going to clear your name, then you can do whatever you want. Go back to the other galaxy and reopen your detective practice, or whatever it’s called. But you know that you can stay here and do a lot of good.”
Lewis stared around the dining hall. It was big enough to hold over a hundred, and therefore looked vast with only the small group there. He could picture the crew of Ricky Bobby filing through the area on the way to their various jobs. Sometimes he felt like they passed through him, crowding the ship like ghosts from the past.
“The look on your face is not a pleasant one,” Bailey said, breaking the silence.
Lewis pulled his eyes up to meet hers. “What if, when we bring back the crew, we don’t belong here? We’re the outsiders. They all know each other and work together. We’re just two strangers to them.”
“Two strangers who are going to save their asses,” Bailey stated. “And we’ve already made our mark; Vitos and DJ are a part of our contributions. Hell, we were here when Pip came alive. We belong here. This is our home as much as it was theirs, but not if you don’t want it to be.”
Lewis shrugged. “I just haven’t figured out where I belong yet.”
“And it’s a lot of pressure to take on the responsibility of another person, I get it.”
Lewis blinked at her, something occurring to him. “You do get it. Better than I would have expected. Why?”
She dropped her eyes, suddenly not as interested in the marshmallow dripping with chocolate at the end of her fork. “I took care of my sisters. Since I can remember, I was their caretaker, being the oldest. My parents worked a lot, but
my grandmother did help. When she died and I got a little older, I told them I was tired of being the girls’ main caretaker. I told them I was leaving home.”
This was it. The demon Lewis had seen wrestling around in Bailey since they first met. It was the reason it was so easy for her to leave her post at Onyx Station, and why she never made any calls out. At first he’d thought she was just independent, but over time, he realized there was more to it.
“They understood, of course,” Bailey continued. “They wanted what was best for me, but deep down, I think they hoped that included me staying close by. It’s just…” She trailed off, her eyes full of regret. “It’s just that I didn’t want to take care of three girls for the rest of my young adulthood. But I also knew that my leaving would put a hardship on my family. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. Stay and give up on all my aspirations, or leave and put my family in a bind.”
Bailey picked up the fork and dragged the marshmallow around in the hot, chocolate syrup, more for something to do than because she planned on eating it.
“It’s a lot to ask a young girl to do,” Lewis said.
Bailey sort of shrugged. “Yeah, I lost most of my childhood to it, but I didn’t totally mind. I love my sisters. I miss them, but when the Federation offered me training, I took it and I didn’t look back.”
“And your parents?” Lewis asked.
“They struggled for many years, although they wouldn’t say it,” she admitted. “I always offered to send them money, but that didn’t go over well. They ended up having to send the girls away for school, since both their jobs were so demanding.”
“And you still tell yourself that it was your fault,” he guessed.
“It was my fault,” Bailey said plainly. “If I’d stayed, we’d all be together.”
“We don’t give up our identity for our family, and it doesn’t sound like that’s what your parents wanted you to do. So things were harder; they are adults and therefore the decision-makers. Their choice to send your sisters away to school is theirs to shoulder, not yours.”
