by Matt Sheehan
I was done with chitchat at that point. Instead of talking, we listened to the news on the radio as we ate. The weather forecast called for clear skies and warm temperatures. A perfect day for an outing at sea.
Shamus and Willie spent the entire meal alternating bites. At least they used different forks. After breakfast and a bachelor cleanup of the kitchen, we threw our bags in a cab and directed the cabbie to pier thirty-five. Willie was initially sitting between us, but he kept creeping onto my side and it was leading to growling and elbowing, so Sha moved to the middle to keep the peace.
It was really a beautiful day; just warm enough that you didn’t need a sweater, with no fog and just a few wispy clouds. Even though it was a short ride, Shamus had his nose buried in a book. It was titled Jenkin’s Cat, and Other Thought Experiments, I didn’t ask.
The cabbie dropped us off at the entrance to the pier, and we found Ramón and Phoebe standing by the rail overlooking the sea lion platform. Ramón was all smiles, Phebes not so much. Ramón greeted us as we approached.
“Shamus and Helmut. I am so excited about our little expedition.” He shook my hand and patted Shamus on the shoulder.
At this point I did not feel the same enthusiasm, but I tried my best to fake it. The problem was I kept picturing us stranded in some third world hellhole, hungry and either terrified or bored. I really wasn’t sure if we were going to a dangerous place or just a backward one.
Shamus noticed Phoebe’s morose mood and asked her what was wrong. That started a lengthy discussion that began with how much she would miss him, then morphed into an awkward conversation where they attempted to express their love for each other without using the word love.
Then the simple goodbye kiss started to get uncomfortable as the kissing continued far too long and the hand placement started leaning toward inappropriate. Luckily I thought of something to ask Ramón, and we just pretended they weren’t there for a while.
“I just realized, neither of us has a visa.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have one either. I just bribed our way on board.”
“How did you get here without one? I thought it was a requirement nowadays.”
“They wanted one when we docked. I didn’t have one. There was a bit of a disagreement between me and a few of the security folk.”
“By disagreement you mean...”
“Mostly them yelling and me hitting them. I kicked a few as well. Then I made a break for it and they really didn’t try too hard to catch me. The conscious ones, I mean.
He was so nonchalant about it. Supercool.
“You actually made the paper. I read about it the other day.”
Just then Phoebe said in a hushed but excited voice to Ramón, “What are you doing with a gun on your hip? Do you know how illegal that is?” She must have noticed when she came up for air.
“You can see that? I must have let my concentration wane a bit. How about now?”
By the time I looked down, I didn’t see a thing. Phoebe was staring with a perplexed look on her face. “It was right there a second ago. Where is it?”
“It’s still there, lass. I just don’t want you to see it.”
“I can see it.” From Shamus, who was squinting a bit.
Ramón tipped his head to the side. It looked like the mental wheels in his head were turning. “What about now?”
I couldn’t see a thing, but Sha was smiling. “Yep, still can. Clear as day. It’s one of those old guns that you click the thing back.”
“Well, damn, you got me. Yeah, it’s called a revolver. I’ve always preferred them over the semi-autos. This one could drop a bear, or the average-sized Cretan.”
Phoebe asked, “That’s all well and good, but why are you carrying here? We don’t have bears or Cretans.”
“I just feel better knowing it’s on my hip. And what if I was mugged? I hear this is a dangerous city.”
Phoebe made a face, but otherwise dropped it. If a mugger held up Ramón, that gun would be the least of the criminal’s worries.
We heard the horn that signaled the start of boarding, and the kids got back to saying their goodbyes. It was final boarding when I resorted to grabbing Shamus and physically moving him toward the ship.
We made our way up the ramp and over to the promenade deck so that Shamus could wave goodbye to Phoebe. After that we got to check out the accommodations. I had assumed that after we shoved off, we would be herded belowdecks with the rest of the common folk for the remainder of the voyage. Instead I was in for a treat. Ramón reported the happy news.
“We are first class all the way, brother, as a thank-you from the taxpayers of the Alliance. Just try not to get too fat. The restaurants on our deck are gourmet and all you can eat.”
Our “room” turned out to be multiple suites located on the top deck. I had expected to have to share a single cell with Ramón and Shamus, so I was happily surprised that we each had our own bedroom, bathroom and sitting-around area. Everything was white marble, brass and polished wood.
After finding our rooms and unpacking, we were invited into the smoking lounge with the rest of the first-class passengers, where we were offered cocktails and fancy snacks. Shamus tried both drinks being offered, a red one called fire and a white one named ice, and he had fun making a little castle out of the empty glasses. Ramón was able to build a matching tower with his castoffs. I got to try caviar for the first time, served on little crackers, and it wasn’t half-bad.
We got a lot of looks on account of Willie, and eventually one of the crew came over to talk with us about him. Ramón met the man with a cash handshake. I think he also crushed his hand a bit, `cause the guy winced as they shook. The combination of pain and money must have done the trick because no one bothered us about it the rest of the night.
Willie sat pretty on a chair the whole time, in his blue knit sweater and cap, waiting patiently as Shamus fed him bites of food from a fork. He also had one of each cocktail. Shamus said Willie liked the red one the best, even though both glasses were licked clean. With all the food and drink the dog was putting down, it got me wondering about a few biological necessities.
“Sha, where is Willie supposed to relieve himself?”
He got that proud look on his face before answering. “Not a problem. I trained him to use the toilet last night. I think he prefers the privacy anyway.”
“Make sure to tip your maid more than usual.”
“He’s not messy, if that’s what you’re inferring.” After a slight pause he added, “You’re supposed to tip the maids?”
“I’m sure the Alliance taxpayers will handle that as well.”
To which Ramón nodded an affirmative.
We stuck around until the free drinks stopped flowing, and in that time Ramón and I must have put away a generation of unborn fish. Shamus wasn’t as much a fan of the caviar, but he found the crab cakes and jumbo fried shrimp more to his liking. Afterward we called it a night and retired to our separate rooms to sleep off the calories. Little did I know, I would be getting an extremely early wake-up call.
Chapter Nine
I woke up alone and in a strange bed. It took me a few moments to remember where I was, and why on Earth there was no bed warmer. After hitting the alarm clock progressively harder, and after that sending it across the room without making the noise stop, I finally realized it was the phone that was ringing. I must admit, I answered it a bit annoyed. I was treated with Ramón’s chipper voice.
“Hey, are you up?”
“No. What time is it?”
“4:00 a.m. It’s a new day, brother. Time to train. Make some space in the living room, and have some coffee ready. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
He hung up without waiting for a response. I got out of bed and got the pot brewing, then pushed a
ll the furniture in the sitting area up against the walls. I just had enough time to brush my teeth and wash the sleep out of my eyes before I heard him knocking at the door.
“Top of the morning, brother. You would have slept the day away if I had let you.”
“The sun hasn’t even risen yet. That’s usually my alarm clock. Shamus would drive you crazy with his sleep patterns.”
“Lots of things about Shamus would drive me crazy. That’s why I’ve got you here. He’s no good to me dead.” He said it with a smile, but there was at least a sliver of truth there. “So you wanted to learn to fight with a knife.”
The movement was a blur. He had the blade out of its sheath and extended with the handle toward me before I could even blink. He saw the surprise on my face.
“You like that?” He was smiling that scary smile again. “I’m still faster than you and I’m almost fifty. What have you been doing all these years?”
“Mostly mixing it up on the street.” I reached for the knife, but it was back in its sheath.
“The guys we’re likely to run into in Canaan could be pushing two and a half meters tall and a hundred and thirty kilos. Shamus can’t always be there to electrocute the really tough ones for you.”
I knew what he was doing, but I was something like 150—0 in fights since the last time we had sparred. I was in my prime and like he said, he was almost fifty. I had punched an Angel in the face. Granted, Shamus did electrocute him after that, but I had already softened him up. The thing with the knife was pretty sweet, but this wasn’t going to be a knife fight.
I did that neck-crack thing for effect. “We should probably warm up before we start playing with sharp objects. How about a little rhythm sparring?”
He did the smile again. “You want to drink your coffee first?”
I just shook my head no.
He gestured toward the middle of the room. “After you, Helmut.”
We got into position, faced each other, bowed, squared up and waited. I had forgotten how frustrating that could be. Fools always jump first, leaving me to react and pick my shot. I learned this lesson by being the fool and throwing first in my early days with Ramón. Counterpunching is the way to go as far as I’m concerned, but two counter fighters facing each other is essentially a staring contest, so I reluctantly took the initiative.
I moved in and out, never overextending myself, but also not getting close to landing. Ramón didn’t try to block anything I threw; he just used his speed to move out of the way. And wow, was he fast.
After a few minutes like that, I was working up a sweat and beginning to breath hard. Ramón still looked fresh as a daisy. Suddenly there was a slight change in his body language and I saw a smile play briefly across his lips. Then he was on me.
I blocked the lead back knuckle, but only because I knew he favored it as an opening move. The three strikes after that, which landed almost concurrently to various points of my legs and torso, all landed cleanly and left me bent over and defenseless.
Ramón was just standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head at me. “Your form is good, but your qi is all over the place, Helmut. You have to remember to channel your internal energies in combat.”
I had vague memories of mental exercises and holding certain positions for long periods of time while focusing on my breathing, but it was nothing I had paid attention to in years. I sort of saw that as the weird mumbo jumbo I had to put up with in order for Ramón to teach me how to fight. I didn’t realize it was actually important.
I nodded, but he must have seen something in my expression that he didn’t like, because he was shaking his head at me again. “All right, let’s go again.”
As soon as my hands came up, he was all over me. I could tell he was pulling his punches, and for that at least I was thankful. After I took a few shots, time felt like it slowed down a bit. What seemed to speed up was my heart, which felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. But with that uncomfortable feeling came a burst of speed. I started countering him a bit, and landed a few shots of my own. Just when I was starting to feel good about myself, a powerful kick swept my legs out from under me.
He was shaking his head again. “You’ve forgotten about rooting as well, haven’t you?”
“Not exactly forgotten.” Pretty much exactly.
“We’ve got some work to do, brother. Pour us some coffee, and let’s have a little chat.”
I was sweating and didn’t really want hot coffee, but I did what the man said. Two cups of black coffee, no sugar.
“So your energy work sucks. Your rooting sucks.” He drank some coffee and let the words sink in. “Your technique, on the other hand, is beautiful. It’s obvious you’ve been compliant with the physical training. The funny thing is, when I turned up the heat on you, your energy started flowing better.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure how I did that.”
“Yeah, I could tell. You had a fight with one of Alek’s men, right?”
“Yes, sir. Nero?” I could feel myself falling back into student mode.
“I hear it was a pretty good fight. How did it go?”
“When we first started throwing, he was too damn fast. I was swinging and missing, while barely parrying his strikes. Then I got his timing down and did pretty well.” I omitted the fact that I had to resort to grappling to win.
“It’s not timing so much. It’s more about learning to focus your qi. You seem to be able to pretty well in times of stress.” He patted me on the shoulder. “That’s a good start. Now you need to learn how to do it on command.”
Ramón drained his cup and stood back up. “Let’s go, brother, we’re losing daylight.” The sun had just begun to rise, for what it’s worth. I was still sweating and hadn’t touched my coffee, but did as I was told, fully expecting to get another beating.
Instead I stood in a square horse and used my qi to root myself to the ground for most of the morning. Every once in a while Ramón would come by and kick my legs out from under me. He also found the time to drink my cup of coffee, which I had left untouched on the table.
After about the tenth time of picking myself off the ground, I may have mumbled something under my breath about the efficacy of the drill. Ramón didn’t get mad, but he did that scary smile of his. “Why don’t we switch roles, Helmut? Let me get in position, and you can take your shot.” Before I could answer, he was in the middle of the floor in his stance. I just figured I would knock him on his butt, and we could move on to something else.
“How much time do you need to root?”
“I’m always rooted.” And he winked at me.
I bounded in and fired my shin hard at an upward angle, connecting with the back of his knee. My intention was to send him flying ass over teakettle. He had done it to me often enough. Instead it was the proverbial unstoppable force hitting the immovable object. He just stared at me. I tried to keep my face neutral, even though my hip was hurting from the torque. Finally he spoke.
“Now that’s rooted, brother.”
“Yes, sir, I’d say you’re right about that.” What else could I say? He’d proved his point.
“Good then. Demonstration over. Let’s go eat.”
We did a lot of that on the eight-day cruise. There really wasn’t much else to do. Train, eat, rest, repeat. Well, that’s not exactly true. I did make one new friend named Brook, and she did help make the evenings a little less tedious; especially since Shamus was conspicuously absent the first few days of the trip. It turns out it was better off that way.
Chapter Ten
I was just finishing up my shower after a grueling cardio workout when I heard noises coming from the living quarters of my cabin. I thought maybe Brook, my new friend and workout partner, had stuck around to clean up the mess we had made, so I didn’t rush the process. When I f
inally emerged from the bathroom, I knew something was wrong.
The first thing I noticed was one of my shoes was lying in the middle of the room all by itself. On closer inspection, it had a chewed look that I unfortunately found all too familiar.
After looking around a bit and not finding anything else out of the ordinary, I decided to get dressed and head over to the galley for a late snack before bed. When I opened the drawer I kept my underwear in, it was empty except for a large pair of pink granny panties. Shortly thereafter I found my underwear cold and wet in the freezer section of my mini-fridge.
I removed my undergarments, wrung them out and hung them to dry over the shower bar. I was left with the choice of going commando to the dining hall or trying my luck with the panties. It’s really none of your business what I chose to do.
Shamus was at a table in the dining hall with Willie and one of the crew members. They had their backs to the door and didn’t see me come in. Willie, who was still in his ridiculous seafaring outfit and seated at the table, glared at me for a moment, then went back to lapping up soup from a bowl. As I got within earshot, I caught the tail end of their conversation.
The crew member was saying, “And they never suspect the officers of pulling pranks like this. It’s always assumed to be a ship hand, or a passenger’s kid. I get away with all sorts...”
He stopped talking when he saw me, and he seemed to go a little pale. I put my hands on Sha’s shoulders from behind and gave him a friendly squeeze. “Hey there, pal. What have you two been up to?”
Of course, I already knew what they had been up to. The empties on the table let me know they had been drinking, and my chafing nether regions reminded me of what they were doing before that.
To his credit, Shamus kept a straight face. “Just grabbing a late snack.” There were no food plates on the table. By snack, he meant booze. “This is Ricardo Belotti, the ship’s doctor. We’ve been discussing world events and whatnot.”
