by A. K. DuBoff
“Huh.” Finn pursed his lips. “And that explains why the piggy bank shocked me every time I tried to retrieve my change.”
Jack eyed him. “You’ve been electrocuting yourself on a toaster for a month and you thought it was a piggy bank doing it?”
“It may have been a sibling tamper-proof model,” the other man replied. “I also thought it was possible that it was one of the electric eel hybrid models.”
“You can’t put electric eel DNA in a piggy bank, Finn.” Jack sighed.
“Why not? They’re both organic. If we can have a kangaraffe, why not an electric pigeel?”
Jack held up his index finger. “Wait, are you saying you thought the piggy bank was an actual living pig?”
“Well yeah,” Finn stated.
“When you said you were putting your credit chips in it, I thought you were dropping them in a slot on the back of a ceramic or metal thing.”
“What?” Finn laughed. “No, that would be ridiculous.”
“How did you think you were depositing the chips?” Jack asked.
“Obviously, I was putting them in the—”
“Not important!” Alyssa cut in. “I think we’ve spent enough time looking through Finn’s eyes. I can’t say I ever want to see the world that way again.”
“I found it fascinating, personally,” Jack countered. “I could have had a pet pig this whole time.”
“Electric pigeel,” Finn corrected. “They’re rather sensitive about their classifications. Hybrids can be elitist bastards.”
“I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Well, think about it, they are the combination of the best traits from multiple genetic sources. They argue that hybrids are better than any one species on its own.”
“I guess they do have a point,” Jack realized.
“Except that your pigeel was actually an old-fashioned toaster,” Triss pointed out. “And kangaraffes aren’t real, either.”
Finn snorted. “Yeah, try telling that to the panthericorn over there.”
Jack looked in the direction Finn had gestured, seeing only an instant lottery ticket kiosk. “I don’t see a panthericorn.”
The other man groaned. “It’s right there!” He pointed at the kiosk.
Jack, Triss, and Alyssa exchanged worried glances.
“You know, Finn, I don’t think you ever told me how you ended up imprisoned at Hellena,” Jack said.
“It was ridiculous. I was just trying to milk a panthericorn,” he replied with a dismissive flip of his wrist. “They’re shy at first, but if you can catch one and touch it just right, it shoots out stars and your savings account gets an extra decimal place.”
The others stared at him with abject horror.
Unfazed, Finn clasped his hands together when he noticed the window display for the SpaceMall store; the centerpiece was a Toastmaster 10,000. “It’s here!”
“So, um, what do you think the Toastmaster 10,000 is, Finn?” Alyssa asked cautiously.
“A super-fancy toaster, obviously.” He scoffed. “Why, what else would it be?”
“And you thought I was the weird one,” Jack muttered.
Alyssa patted him on the shoulder. “Jack, I suddenly have new appreciation for you.”
Finn ran into the store toward the toaster display, giggling.
“Did you know about this?” Alyssa asked Triss.
The other woman shook her head. “I was aware he had some strange perceptions about things, but he was so good at safe-cracking that I never asked questions.”
Jack crossed his arms. “Makes me wonder what he thinks he’s doing when he cracks a safe.”
Alyssa shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to know.”
“Is he, like, dangerous?” Jack asked.
Triss shrugged. “We went this long without noticing anything. I’m inclined to say we just forget about this whole exchange and pretend everything is normal.”
Alyssa nodded. “Works for me.”
“Well, in that case, I have some shopping to do,” Jack said.
The two women followed him into the store.
The interior was more magnificent than anything Jack could have imaged. Countertops on islands in the center of the store were covered with a spread of completely random items, most of which filled needs that were entirely imagined. One notable example was a butterfly-shaped waffle maker that Jack realized he needed the moment it caught his eye.
“Alyssa, why haven’t we been eating butterfly waffles for breakfast?!” he exclaimed.
“I don’t know, but I think this is a must-have.”
“Wait a minute,” Triss grabbed Alyssa’s upper arm while she lunged for the product display. “Shouldn’t we look around at everything before deciding what we want to buy?”
Alyssa scoffed. “What does it matter? We have more money to spend than we reasonably will ever get to.”
Triss frowned. “Just because we have a lot of Spacecups stock, that doesn’t mean it will convert to disposable income.”
“But Triss… butterfly waffles.” Alyssa looked longingly between the waffle iron and her partner.
“Okay, but let’s pick it up on the way out,” Triss conceded.
“Stars! This is more amazing than I imaged,” Finn crooned from the front display case. He stroked his hand along the upper bevel of the Toastmaster 10,000’s red ceramic finish.
Jack, however, had his own mission in mind. Ever since the latest edition of the SpaceMall catalog, he’d been curious about the astronaut onesie. As a loungewear connoisseur, a proclivity his comrades had no doubt realized by that point, he had been on the hunt for the most comfortable, useful clothing items to satisfy his lounging needs. While loose pants and a shirt were sufficient, onesies offered the distinct benefit of having no possibility for a breech at the waistline when bending over. Considering the cool temperature of life in space, maintaining lower back temperature control was a key consideration.
He located the astronaut onesie model in a section of the store labeled ‘Kid at Heart’, located at the convenient intersection of kids clothing and adult toys. The jumper was predominantly off-white with black accents along the seams and the contrasting panel for the butt-flap.
Jack examined the floor sample, rubbing one of the sleeves between his thumb and forefinger. “Stars! The microfiber is even softer than the advertising claimed.”
He decided he needed three pairs.
With three packages of the onesie in his arms and a growing list of must-have running through his head, he realized that he’d need a strategy to make it through the shopping expedition. “I’m going to need a cart.”
The hours passed quickly as he perused the store, occasionally running into his friends. Alyssa had to talk him down from getting the complete rainbow of light-up sneakers, so he limited his acquisition to just the electric blue and red to alternate with his current gold. All told, he ended up with three onesies, two pairs of light-up sneakers, a butterfly waffle maker, four alarm clocks, and an automated vacuum that purred like a cat when its catchment bag needed changing.
After the requisite four hours for their ship to be cleaned, the crew checked out from the store. Purchases in hand in the store’s signature blue shopping bags, they returned to the Perfect Touch storefront.
However, the berth was empty.
“Uh, where’s our ship?” Alyssa asked Greg.
“Oh, we have another customer coming in. We returned it to an open berth at the end of the concourse,” he replied.
Alyssa sighed. “Where, exactly?”
Just down the concourse—two kilometers,” Greg stated.
Jack shifted the bundle of items in his arms. “Maybe we shouldn’t have bought so much.”
“No!” Finn snarled, hunching protectively over his Toastmaster 10,000 box. We needed these things.”
“I’m excited about the butterfly waffles,” Triss said with a nod.
“Oh, that.” Greg nodded behind the counter. “
They come out looking more like moths.”
“It’s never quite like a demo, is it?” Alyssa sighed. “Well, I guess we should get back to our ship. Where’s my access chip?”
Greg rooted around on the desktop, then handed the item over to her. “You’re all set.”
“What about the final payment?” she asked.
“After inspection,” Greg stated.
“Right, of course.” Triss turned to go. “Thank you for helping us out.” She hoisted her giant purple bear pillow.
“Welcome to the Blue Rabbit family,” Greg replied.
They hurried down the concourse as best they could with their arms full of shopping bags and lose items, garnering only the occasional sidelong glance from passersby. A fair number of other pedestrians seemed to be facing their own challenges carrying life-sized dolls. At first Jack wasn’t sure why adults would be carrying life-sized dolls back to their ships; when he saw the adult ‘toy’ store, however, it became much clearer.
By the end of the two kilometer hike, the crew of the Little Princess II was panting and about ready to drop their new purchases on the deck.
“I can’t feel my arms,” Finn moaned.
“That is one hell of a toaster,” Alyssa commented.
Triss shook her head. “I don’t know where we’re going to fit it in the galley.”
“Plenty of time to figure that out,” Jack said as he began scaling the gangway back into the ship.
When they reached the main hatch, Alyssa unlocked it using her command credentials. “Oh, wow.”
Jack followed her through the hatch. The common room, which jack had always assumed had a dark floor and baseboards, was now gleaming stainless steel. Above, the walls and ceiling were still the grass green Jack had painted them in an attempt to make it feel like they were lounging in a meadow, but the room felt significantly lighter and airier with the flooring improvement.
Likewise, the galley and dining area had new life with gleaming metal finished on the surfaces that had previously been covered in unnoticed grime.
Alyssa popped her head into one of the washrooms. “I’m going to try to forget what color I thought the shower tiles were.”
“How did they do all of this so quickly?” Jack piled his purchases on the dining table.
“Must have a huge team,” Triss speculated.
“Think they took care of the lower levels, too?” Finn asked.
“I guess we didn’t really specify a scope of work beyond detailing the ship,” Alyssa replied. “I’d think it would cover everything.”
“Four hours and a thousand credits? I dunno.” Triss crossed her arms.
“One way to find out.” Jack headed for the ladder down to the belly of the yacht.
The aroma of sweet spices greeted Jack as he descended the ladder. A unique cleaning product fragrance to be sure, but he liked it.
As his head cleared the deck, something else jumped out at him: there was someone moving down below.
“Morey, is that you?” he asked, wondering if the ship’s robotic mechanic was in the middle of some maintenance activities.
“I am so relieved you have returned!” The robot rushed to the bottom of the stairs with a metallic clink of his feet on the deck. “Did you order the renovations?”
“Yeah, the ship was in bad need of some cleaning,” Jack replied while he scaled the remaining portion of the ladder.
“That’s an understatement.” Alyssa followed Jack down the ladder. “I hardly recognize the place.”
“You could have asked me to buff the floor for you,” Morey said.
Jack scrunched up his nose. “That feather suit of yours is weird.”
“But highly effective,” the robot replied with one of his clawed fingers raised. “However, the cleaning is not the renovation activity to which I was referring.”
Alyssa frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I was referring to that.” Morey pointed toward the far side of the cargo area.
What had previously been a section of open deck to hold extra supplies or crates now appeared to be a dormitory, complete with a dozen bunks, two couches, and a dining table. More surprising, however, were the dozen men and women occupying the living area.
Jack placed his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s unexpected.”
CHAPTER 4: Turning up the Heat
— — —
“Um, Alyssa…” Jack began tentatively. “Why are there a dozen beautiful people in our cargo hold?”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t know, Jack. What the hell did you say to Betty while I was out of the room?”
“Nothing! It was just going over the same terms we’d already discussed.”
“Something clearly changed. A dozen people was not part of the deal.”
He gaped at her. “Ya think? I didn’t do this. You were the one who signed the contract!”
“I guess I should have read that more carefully.”
“There was clearly a misunderstanding about what services we wanted. We’ll just have to get rid of them.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What, like, return them?”
Jack shrugged. “I dunno. What do you do when your cargo hold gets turned into a dormitory and a dozen random passengers come on board?”
Alyssa surveyed the new arrivals. “I don’t think these are just random passengers. Pretty sure these are, uh, ‘workers’.”
He evaluated the checkered pants and white jackets. “Like, restaurant workers?”
“No, like ‘people of the night’.”
Jack finally took the hint. “You told me Perfect Touch wasn’t an escort service!”
Alyssa shrugged. “They claim not to be. You know how a business will try to defend its image.”
“Then why are they dressed like a bunch of cooks?”
“Either for cover or for some sort of fetish thing. You know how it goes. Being into certain… types,” she replied.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I mean, your girlfriend is a droid.”
Jack frowned. “First of all, Latrina isn’t my girlfriend.”
“But you’d like for her to be your girlfriend.”
“We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”
The captain smirked. “Don’t deny your interest, Jack. I saw you go all googley-eyed when you saw her.”
“Oh, like you didn’t.”
“She is pretty hot, especially considering what she is,” Alyssa agreed.
“I think you’re jealous I made the first move.”
“No, Jack, I’m really not. Even if Triss and I weren’t together, I don’t see her being my… type.”
“Just because she’s a droid?”
“It’s not just that. Her specialization doesn’t exactly make me want to get intimate.”
“Well, she saved my life,” Jack insisted. “You said you would be nice to her and not be weird about this.”
Alyssa scrunched up her nose. “I can’t imagine I would have said something like that. I may have encouraged you to go for it, but I would never have said I wouldn’t poke fun. Seriously, if there ever was a textbook definition of a situation to constantly bring up and tease someone about, it would be dating the ship’s waste processing droid.”
“Uh, hi,” a male voice said from Jack’s right.
He turned to see that the speaker was half a head shorter than himself and slightly fuller-figured than he would have expected for an escort. However, the man had a pleasant face and gave off the energy of someone who’d be easy to talk to, so Jack set aside his preconceptions.
“Hello,” Jack replied. “What can we do for you?”
The man looked to Alyssa and then back to Jack. “You bring us.”
Alyssa let out an awkward chuckled. “Yeah, see, there was some sort of misunderstanding. We were just looking to have the ship detailed, not take on a bunch of people to transport.”
“But that was the deal,” the main said.
“I�
��m sorry, what’s your name?” Alyssa asked.
“Ramone.”
“Well, Ramone, I know it’s unfair for you to be caught in the middle of this, but we’ll need for you and the others to leave the ship. We’ll get this sorted out with Betty.”
“Oh, no.” Ramone shook his head, his eyes widening with apparent fear. “You can’t change the deal.”
“We’re not changing the deal—it was a misunderstanding about what we wanted,” Alyssa replied.
“You must take us to Rufan,” Ramone stated. “You agreed.”
“Oh, that’s what Betty meant!” Jack realized. “See, I wasn’t sure if there was a question mark there or not. I guess it was a statement—an instruction— after all, not a question about whether or not we’d ever been.”
“Huh.” Alyssa nodded. “I can see how that misunderstanding happened.”
Jack sighed. “You never valued a good debate about the use of spoken punctuation. This is why.”
“Unless you have a time travel machine, we can’t go back to that conversation and do it over,” Alyssa replied. “The only path forward is… well, forward.” She turned to Ramone. “And on that note, how do we get out of this contract?”
Ramone waved his hands in front of him and shook his head. “No. No, no. I don’t know. I just do my job.”
“And Betty wants you to go ‘work’ in Rufan?” Jack asked.
“Yes, we work in Rufan.”
Jack beckoned Alyssa away from Ramone and the other workers. “We need to help these people.”
“Whoa! What the…?” Triss came down the ladder, frowning at sight of the dormitory.
“So, um, apparently we agreed to transport a bunch of Perfect Touch’s workers to Rufan,” Alyssa said.
“Yeah, I was wondering if that was a question mark or a period at the end of his statement,” Triss replied.
The captain rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Triss shrugged. “Didn’t seem important at the time.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Jack continued. “We have people here who are actually being trafficked. Don’t we have a moral obligation to help them?”
“As much as I don’t like the idea of people getting forced to do anything against their will, I don’t know that we’re in a position to do anything about it. We clearly got involved with the wrong people. It was an accident, but it’s not our problem,” Alyssa replied.
