It was a man—that is, a human man. Some tall guy, with Irish red hair, a set of fine eyebrows of the type you did not get without either extensive grooming, or being born a Kardashian. Adorning his muscular body was a sleek one-piece uniform, all red and black. On the sleeve of one arm, the letters CSEA were clearly visible.
From beside me, Dex turned his head. ‘Oh, uh… hey, Ruk. How’s it going?’
The man stepped casually over to us, a good gaggle of similarly clad men/creatures just behind him. He put his hands on his hips and grinned. ‘Dex Wexler, as I live and breathe. Man, I can’t believe it! How long’s it been? Fifteen years?’
‘Something like that…’
‘You still flying that heap of junk? What was it you used to call it, the Death Star?’
‘It, uh, goes by Steve now.’
The man—Ruk—shook his head. ‘Man, same old Dex. Hell, look at you—you’re even still wearing your daddy’s jacket! You really haven’t changed at all, have you?’ He stepped forward. ‘Tell me; do you still wet your pants when you get scared, Dex?’
‘Hey, you can’t talk to him like that!’ I said, lunging between them. ‘He’s the greatest detective in the galaxy. You should show some respect.’
Ruk’s face creased. ‘The greatest detective in the galaxy?!’ He barked harsh laughter. ‘Is that what he told you? Oh, man. I mean, I knew you were pathetic, Dex, but this… this is too much.’
A cold sensation settled over me.
I turned to Dex slowly, like a man in a dream. ‘What’s he talking about, Dex?’
‘Yeah, tell him, Dex,’ said Ruk. ‘Tell him the truth.’ He leaned in close to me. ‘Your pal Dex over here? He’s a fraud. He ain’t no detective. Hell, he’s not even on the force. Flunked out of the academy in the first year. Peed his pants and everything.’
‘In his pants!’ parroted one of his cronies from over his shoulder.
Ruk shot a look back at him. ‘Not now, Craig.’
I stared over at Dex, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. ‘But… the mission,’ I said. ‘The letter—the assassination plot!’
‘Assassination plot?’ said Ruk. Before Dex could object, he quickly lunged forward and shoved a hand into Dex’s jacket, pulling out the letter in question.
He held the tattered piece of paper up to his face—
His eyes widened.
‘What?’ I said. ‘What is it?’
‘This,’ said Ruk, gesturing at the paper in his hand. ‘This ain’t no letter—it’s a grocery list!’
‘A what?!’
He held it out for me to see.
Sure enough, written on the letter, scrawled over and over from left to right and top to bottom like a crazy man’s schizophrenic babble-scrawl, a single word had been written.
The word was “beer”.
I stared at the letter, suddenly lightheaded.
So it had been a lie. All of it. There was no conspiracy, no great assassination plot. It had all been nothing but a fabrication by Dex—no doubt in an attempt to keep us all together. This whole time, all the distance we’d travelled, all of it now seemingly under false pretences. I had given up my home, my planet, followed Dex across the galaxy, almost dying multiple times in the process.
And it had all been for nothing.
I struggled for breath. It felt like every part of me was having a stroke. ‘OH MY GOD…’
Ruk dropped the letter to the ground. He puffed out his chest. ‘Well, Dex—it’s been nice catching up. But I’m afraid we got to bust a move; unlike you, some of us actually have some law to uphold.’ He left us with that, disappearing off into the stream of rushing aliens, his many oddly shaped cronies following closely behind him.
‘Well,’ said Dex once they were gone. He let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t know about you, Bif, but I could really go for a beer right about now. What do you say?’
I whirled on him. ‘SERIOUSLY?!’
‘What?’
‘YOU’RE SERIOUSLY GOING TO STAND THERE AND PRETEND LIKE NONE OF THAT JUST HAPPENED?!’
‘What, the crazy guy?’ He scoffed. ‘Yeah, plenty of them around these parts. I think it’s all the overpopulation. I wouldn’t worry about it.’ He made for the bar again. ‘Come on, Bif. I’ll buy you a—’
I snatched my arm away. ‘I DON’T WANT YOUR BEER! YOU LIED TO ME! YOU’RE A LIAR, DEX!’
‘YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN SHOUT, BIF! LOOK AT US. NOW WE’RE BOTH SHOUTING. ARE YOU HAPPY?’
It was at about that moment Luna returned, a bowl of what looked like offal in her hands. With everything that had just gone down, I hadn’t even noticed she’d left.
She regarded us both curiously. ‘What’s going on?’
‘WE’RE SHOUTING, LUNA. GO AHEAD—GIVE IT A TRY.’
‘HE LIED TO US!’ I cried. ‘THERE IS NO ASSASSINATION PLOT. HE MADE IT UP!’
Luna blinked. ‘What? But the letter—’
I reached down and snatched the letter from the ground, held it up for her to see.
I waited while Luna stared it over, her face changing as realization dawned.
She shifted her gaze. ‘Wait—YOU LIED TO US?!’
‘OH, YEAH, THAT’S IT. EVERYBODY SHOUT AT DEX. THAT’S FINE.’
I ran my hands through my hair. I could feel every beat of my heart, hear every pulse of blood as it pumped through my body. I wondered if I was going to pass out again.
‘WELL YOU KNOW WHAT?’ shouted Dex. He stabbed a finger in our direction. ‘SCREW YOU GUYS. I DON’T NEED THIS. YOU WANT TO SPLIT? FINE. BE MY GUEST. I WORK BETTER ALONE, ANYWAY.’
Before either of us could reply, he turned on his heels and began stomping off towards the strip of shady-looking bars to our right, big Dr. Marten boots swinging.
I waited until he had gone, then collapsed onto the rusty metal floor. It felt like every part of me was shaking. There was a tingling sensation working its way up my legs and arms, prickly and warm.
I couldn’t believe it. All this time, I’d thought I had known rock-bottom, that surely nothing could be worse than wasting away in some two-bit, no-nothing town like so many other people before me. But the reality was I hadn’t even been close. Not even a little.
‘I can’t believe he lied to us…’ I said.
Luna hunkered down and slung an arm around my shoulders. ‘It’s not your fault, Bif. Guys like Dex—they only ever care about themselves.’
I watched as creatures continued to flood past us in the street. All those damned tentacles. ‘What am I supposed to do now?’
‘Come on,’ said Luna, giving my shoulders a brief squeeze. ‘Let’s get you home.’
9
The taxi hummed quietly as it hovered along the bustling street, propelled by the unrelenting force that was generic science fiction tropes.
It was five minutes following our departure from the Square.
I had sat on the curb with my head in my hands while Luna went and hailed us a taxi. I was expecting to have to wait—at least for a little while—but within what felt like only seconds, there one came shooting around the corner, bearing silently towards us, its hood-lights flashing.
Long blue stripe down the side. All sleek and smooth, not unlike a torpedo, the front end all flat and pointed like one of those high-speed trains the Japanese are always using to lord it over us with. It couldn’t have looked less like a taxi if it tried.
And so it was with some surprise then, that I found the inside to be pretty much like your normal, everyday taxi. Same tattered upholstery. Same vague, phantom aroma of sweat and stale farts. In fact, the only real noticeable difference I could see (minus the taxi driver himself, of course, who I assure you was very different indeed), was that instead of a steering column, the front of the cab was comprised of what appeared to be nothing but a series of strange buttons and nobs. So that wasn’t concerning at all. I wondered how he was steering, if I even wanted to know.
‘Warm out today, huh?’ said Taxi-Driver Guy suddenly from up front, pull
ing me from my thoughts.
He was some large, puffy creature, with reptilian eyes, dressed in a flat cap and polo neck. He’d told us his name the moment we’d climbed inside, but considering how it had been in a language so far removed from anything else I’d heard thus far, all I’d heard was groans and whistles. Well… that, and I wasn’t really listening.
And can you blame me? Everything here was ridiculous to the point of insanity—least of which was Dex, who right at that moment was probably sat in some bar somewhere, already in the process of talking some other gullible idiots into joining his cause. Heck, he probably even had a new sidekick already. Maybe he was even taller than me, too.
I was just so done.
‘Uh-huh,’ I said, turning back to the window.
‘You folks heading to the ceremony tonight?’
Luna, who up until that point had been staring out the window also, leaned forward. ‘Ceremony?’
‘Why, sure! Lord Chancellor Zeb’s birthday ceremony. You haven’t heard? Word about town is it’s going to be the biggest bash of the year. Lots of important folks going.’
‘We’re good.’
‘You sure? Young couple like you ought to be out there living it up. You’re only young once, you know.’
‘Just take us to departures, please.’ She hesitated, then added. ‘And we’re not a couple. Just, you know—so you understand.’
‘Oh, sure, sure. I understand.’ He shot me a wink in the rearview. ‘Don’t worry, son. I know what it’s like to be dating an older woman. Wife’s a hundred-and-eighty-seven years my senior, if you can believe it. They don’t like the idea of having a “toy-boy”, see, think it makes ’em cradle robbers or some such. But they come around—if you treat ’em right.’
Luna groaned and looked out the window.
I thought about Dex again. I told myself not to. Yes, it felt wrong to be abandoning him—what after all the time we’d spent together. But there are some lines in life you just don’t cross. Lying to your friends and leading them across the galaxy on some wild—often perilous—goose chase? Well, that was one of them.
And yet, even as I told myself these things, another part of me whispered: are you sure, Bif? Are you sure there isn’t any other reason you’re so salty right now?
I glanced out the window again.
As sad as it sounded, up until his betrayal, Dex had been by and far the best friend I’d ever had—even with his drinking problem and habit of putting us all in danger. But it was more than that. Even though we admittedly hadn’t known each other very long, Dex, Luna and I—we were like family. A dysfunctional family, true. But still a family. Did family bail on each other? Was that what family did?
I caught myself.
No. Dex lied to us. Whether it felt like we were family or not, family didn’t keep secrets from each other—and they sure as heck didn’t purposely mislead them for their own twisted agendas.
I shook my head. ‘I still can’t believe Dex lied to us…’
From up front, Taxi-Driver Guy turned his head. ‘Wait—Dex? Dex Wexler?’
‘You know Dex?’
‘Why, sure! Used to teach him back at the academy—oh, going on twenty years ago, now. “Tactical Engagement”, and so on. His old man, too.’ He let out a hearty sigh. ‘You know, I always felt bad for Dex. I mean, Hutch Hanley’s kid? Those are some mighty big boots to fill. Really, it’s no wonder he flunked out.’
Luna jerked forward, eyes suddenly wide. ‘Wait, go back—Dex’s dad is Hutch Hanley?!’
I stared back and forth between them. ‘Who’s Hutch Hanley?’
‘Only the most famous man in the entire galaxy! Was a key-player in the Virilo Wars. Went missing decades ago on a job out there by the Rim. People say he’s the greatest detective that ever lived.’
‘And then some,’ added Taxi-Driver Guy.
‘So, wait,’ I said, trying desperately to keep up. Things were just moving so fast. ‘You’re saying Dex’s dad went missing?’
Taxi-Driver Guy nodded. ‘Uh-huh. Dex took it pretty hard, o’ course—as I suppose any young’n would. Like most folks, he idolized his old man. They shipped him off to some orphanage after that, way out in the boonies somewhere. Dex never said anything, but I get the feeling it was a pretty rough time.’
A sudden metallic taste filled my mouth.
So Dex’s dad had gone missing when he was a boy. I couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for him. I mean, true, I had lost both of my parents—one to cancer, and one before I was even born—but to have one go missing and never know what happened to them? And then to have to go live in an orphanage out in the ass-end of nowhere, constantly under the shadow of your famous yet absent father’s legacy? That was a psychological bomb just waiting to go off. I mean no wonder the guy was a functioning alcoholic fraudster with a penchant for casual violence and trickery. Hell, it was a miracle he was even still sane.
‘Stop the car.’
Taxi-Driver Guy, who was in the process of reaching for what looked like some kind of wind instrument, frowned. Seriously, how he was driving that thing, I’ll never know. ‘Say what, now?’
‘I said stop the car! We need to go back!’
From across the cab, Luna shot me a glance. ‘Bif? Everything okay?’
I turned my gaze back towards the window.
I just hoped we weren’t already too late.
*Editor’s note #2: What follows below is an accounting of subsequent events, as best relayed to me by Dex after the fact. Again, as I am unable to corroborate his story, I have been forced to take his accounting as fact; however, knowing Dex, please bear in mind there is a chance some details may have been embellished.
The first thing Dex did upon entering the shady tavern was have sex with multiple beautiful women.
This he did while apparently still on route to the bar, pleasuring them quickly and effortlessly using a tactic he referred to as “sex fu” (essentially just your average kung fu, only instead of striking the other person with your fists, you simply—well, you get the picture). You’re probably wondering what the chances are of him stumbling upon multiple human women all on the same planet, let alone in the same bar. Again, as to the validity of these claims, I’ll leave that to your discretion.
Finally at the bar, he had then supposedly gone ahead and ordered several of the manliest drink they had, which, if his statement is to be believed, was pretty much just liquid fire—all of which he downed instantly, and with little trouble. Again, I wasn’t there, so I won’t say how utterly ridiculous this sounds. Though it does.
From here on out, things get, as Dex puts it, “a little hazy”, as the drinks Dex consumed—drinks that “would have killed Luna and I outright”, or so he put it—kicked in. He remembers a woman propositioning him (though, considering how this “woman” had two heads, antlers, and a serrated tail, “woman” might not have been the most appropriate word), recalls mulling it over, before eventually coming to the decision that, even if she likely didn’t have the parts necessary to make sweet sexy-time, it was his responsibility to have sex with her. When you were born with a penis of the sheer length and girth as Dex’s, making love to beautiful women (even if they weren’t especially beautiful or women) was not only a recreational activity, but a public service. As Uncle Ben, Peter Parker’s ill-fated uncle once put it; “with great power, there must also come great responsibility”. When you looked at it like that, really it was out of his hands.
And so, they had gone upstairs to one of the many rooms the shady tavern held, and for the next three-and-a-half minutes he had dazzled her with a swift one-two combo of sex-moves, erotic dancing, and an endless array of knock-knock jokes. The knock-knock jokes weren’t part of it, as he later informed me. But he was very drunk.
At some point, she must have slipped something into his drink, because the next thing he knew he was awakening in the back of what, if his nostrils weren’t deceiving him, was a garbage truck, wrapped up like a burrito
in some flappy material that smelled suspiciously like sweat and blood, surrounded by an assortment of different creatures, all of whom stared at him with a mixture of hatred and contempt. Still, Dex was game. He didn’t know what was going on here, but if these assholes wanted to get freaky, he would make sweet, nasty love to them all one by one until neither of them could bear offspring anymore. It was his responsibility, after all.
But as would turn out, they hadn’t kidnapped him in an attempt to use him for some kind of sordid sex game.
Several short minutes later, they had arrived at one of Etaria’s many refuse depots. Like all refuse depots on Etaria, the place was home to hundreds of large trash compactors. No doubt you’ve already guessed where we’re going with this, but for those who haven’t, it’s the trash compactors’ job to compress all of the city’s accumulated garbage and junk in preparation for it to be shot out into space, where it would swiftly become—and as Etaria’s Public Works Department often like to quote—“somebody else’s problem”.
Now, ordinarily Etaria’s waste disposal process was something Dex thought little about—even during those rare occasions when he was sober, and the world seemed too real and sharp and bright.
But then, he’d never found himself a part of it before, had he?
With a collective grunt from his captors, Dex was tossed into the pit, landing hard amidst a collection of different junk and food bits, still wrapped in the flappy material, that—surprise-surprise—still smelt uncannily like blood.
So he was going to get trash-compacted, apparently. Dex had to admit, even taking into account his own long, depraved history, this had to be about the freakiest orgy ever.
‘You know, I’m sorry it had to come to this, Dex…’
Dex tilted his head at the voice, said movement all the flappy material would allow—
He blinked. ‘Ruk?!’
From the edge of the platform, Ruk nodded. He was still clad in the Enforcer’s uniform he’d been wearing earlier, but now he’d gone ahead and painted his face with what looked like some sort of oily substance, creating an impression of his skin melting off his face. Or maybe that was just the lighting. ‘That’s right, Dex. It’s me.’
Dex Wexler: Space Detective (Chronicles of Bif Book 1) Page 9
