My heart wasn’t the only organ that enjoyed her attention. When she changed my bedding or adjusted my catheter, other dormant parts of my body rose from the dead.
Nurse Moosy would giggle and blush, her pale blue face turning a shade of lavender with scattered lilac splotches, something I found incredibly attractive.
“Naughty spaceman,” she’d say and waggle a finger in my direction.
“Mrr murf hamum,” or something like that, I’d usually respond.
After several weeks in a nearly vegetative state, enjoying Nurse Moosy’s attention from only inside my head, my body began to awaken and recover.
“Marry me,” I declared to Nurse Moosy as she studied my blood pressure on the first morning when I could speak.
“Silly spaceman,” she replied. “I don’t know you well enough yet.”
“You know every inch of my body and then some.”
“I will go on a date when you are no longer my patient.”
“Mrr murf hamum,” or something like that, I mumbled, as she had stuck a probe in my mouth.
I reported back to duty and returned to my quarters, a tiny bunk in an even tinier cabin shared with three other guys. Borf was an enormous Andorian, who took up twice as much space as my other roommates, Wen and Noodnick. Noodnick definitely wasn't human, but what he was, I hadn’t a clue, and frankly, wasn’t too keen on finding out.
“You’re back,” Wen proclaimed, greeting me with a sort-of hug, even though I had met him only once before on the day I had come aboard. Wen had said he was human, and granted he looked like it, but there was something off about him, too, something that made me think he was also something else. “You are recovered, Lancelot?”
“It’s just Lance, and yes, thanks for asking.”
“Shut up!” Borf roared. “I’m trying to sleep.”
Noodnick didn’t say anything, which I guess was par for the course. According to Wen, the dude never spoke, or if he did, it wasn’t audible to our ears.
My first day back on duty, I was assigned to a place we affectionately referred to as the engineering dungeon. There, I was given a console to monitor. Basically, I was to stand for eight hours and look at lights and gauges: oil pressure, water temperature, voltage, hydraulic pressure, engine temperature, hynautic pressure, and about forty other dials. If any one of them turned red, if a claxon sounded, or if I smelled smoke, I was to push another set of buttons and immediately inform the bridge.
“Why isn’t this automated?” I asked my sergeant. “Don’t we have a computer that can monitor this? Not that I’m complaining. I’ll do my job. I was just wondering. You know...”
The guy glared at me and told me to shut up.
“It’s because of the old Empire,” Wen informed me later when he met me for a burger in the ship’s cafeteria. “They used to supply the parts for our ships and since they’re no more, our parts are no more, too. Now, we have to do everything the old fashion way.” Wen giggled a little and gnawed his sandwich.
“I thought the old Empire was our enemy?” I opened the bun on my own sandwich and studied the meat, which tasted decidedly dull and looked decidedly weird. “Is this hamburger or what?”
“Synthetic,” Wen replied. “I think it’s pretty good.” Taking another bite, while offering to eat mine, he told me how the old Empire was considered the Alliance’s nemesis, but was also our biggest trading partner. “They sustained both of our economies.”
“So, once they collapsed, they sent us back to the dark ages with them?” I asked.
“More or less,” Wen nodded, looking vaguely like a squirrel, or a chipmunk, or some other type of rodent. “But, we are still flying and they are not. So, they are in the dark ages and we are only in about the 21st century.”
“I’m not sure which was better. They were both pretty awful.”
Wen laughed and finished my sandwich, enjoying it much more so than I ever would, while I picked at something that was supposedly a dill pickle.
The next day, I got up my nerve and decided to press Moosy for a date. She was in my thoughts from the simulated dawn to dusk, while her beautiful blue skin illuminated my dreams all night. During lunch, instead of eating with Wen again, I casually dropped by the sickbay to ask her out.
Unfortunately, Moosy was busy assisting the doc with some guy who had a heart problem. Even more unfortunate, when I asked if I could leave her a note, the other nurse took out an enormous hypodermic and informed me I was missing a few of the SpaceForce regulation shots.
After that, I left within a matter of seconds. Although both butt cheeks and arms were seriously in pain, that didn’t stop me from running down the stairs back to my station. It was a good thing I did too, because just at that moment, the hydraulic system was glowing bright red. I arrived just in time to push my console buttons and sound the alarm, which set a bunch of other guys into action.
My quick thinking and quick button pushing pretty much saved the ship from disaster. Even more impressive, it got my sergeant to admit that I had done a good job. He recommended me for an award. I got a commendation, a nice plaque with my name and a picture of the ship, as well as a cash bonus, and a credit for two free dinners at the best little steakhouse chain in space.
“Hey, why don’t I use it to take you out to dinner when we arrive at the spacebase tomorrow,” I suggested to Moosy the following week.
I had taken to stalking the sickbay whenever she came off duty. I would wait for her to leave and then hand her a little cartoon I had drawn in my boredom.
“Marry me,” I would scroll across the bottom of a picture of a rabbit proposing to a blue carrot, or two blue birds circling each other in flight, or once, a picture of a basket with two heads of blue lettuce.
At the time, I thought these were great ways to demonstrate my emotional state. Looking back later, I realized I was still recovering from a severe bout of space sickness. My brain had to have been severely traumatized to think that shit was romantic, or that my destiny was marriage to a woman from Andorus II.
“You are ill still,” Wen had concluded, when he caught me doodling a pair of two blue snakes wound around and tied up in a love knot.
Moosy thought my notes were cute. Either that, or she was just being polite. She would reply with her sweet little giggle and a comment like, “Silly spaceman, you are so funny.”
“Funny? Funny?!?” I’d cry aloud later in my cabin. “I’m in love and she thinks I’m joking. Oh my heart! How much can it take?”
“Shut up, asshole,” Borf barked, showing me a fist the size of basketball. “Get back to sleep before I stuff you down the garbage chute and laugh as your head explodes in space.”
I may have been foolishly in love, but fortunately, I was not a fool, or so I thought, when Moosy agreed to meet me at the steakhouse for lunch.
Spacebase 41-B was the largest base this side of the intergalactic divide, which made it a regular destination for Allied ships, both SpaceForce and commercial. The base had a thriving shopping mall and food court, as well as two hotels, theaters, and several bars.
On the lower levels, along with the docking bays, there was a large repair and storage facility. SpaceForce used this port of call to replenish our ship's stores and stock, as well as take care of any minor mechanical issues that might affect us before we headed into deep space. New crew were loaded, and old crew, whose contracts had expired, were free to debark. For some reason, those guys were always the first ones off the ship.
For the rest of us, unless your poor soul was specifically involved in the restocking process, or overseeing a repair, those forty-eight hours meant shore leave, a time so special, so wonderful, so liberating that it felt akin to a gift from the gods.
Walking off the Tornado with Wen that day, I was feeling pretty chipper. I had completely recovered from my space sickness, and had seven months of wages on my paycard, most of them earned while laying on my back. I was as wealthy as I had ever been, and I had a lunch date with a gorgeous
woman, albeit one with blue skin and three boobs, which in my mind, made her all that much better. The only dark cloud spoiling the otherwise perfect view on my horizon, was the fact that I had to wear my spandex SpaceForce uniform to the restaurant. Due to weightloss during my illness, I didn't have any other clothes that still fit.
“So, where are we going?” Wen asked, bouncing along beside me, his squirrely face all lit up like a lightbulb.
“I am going to have lunch at the steakhouse with Moosy. I don't know what your plans are.”
“I will hang out with you,” he announced. “I have no other plans.”
“Great,” I mumbled, not wanting to hurt the guy's feelings, as frankly, other than Moosy, I had no friends aboard the starship either. “But, you're on your own for lunch. Let's go find a bank.”
“Okay. I like banks,” Wen declared. “I like all commerce. Commerce is the engine of our economy.”
“Good Wen.”
I never understood how a spacebase of that size, one that accommodated more than fifty thousand travelers coming and going on a daily basis, didn't have a bank in the mall. There were cash machines aplenty, none of which would do anything with my precious ancient Imperial coin other than spit it back out. There wasn't a real banker, or bank teller, or even android teller alive enough to look at it and tell me if I was unknowingly rich.
“Bummer,” Wen said after we had checked ever shop and every kiosk on every floor of the base.
“I guess I'm stuck with it until the next base,” I replied, pocketing it once again. “Maybe when we get closer to the old empire, someone will know what it’s worth. Let's go into that Kwikie-Mart and see what they've got to eat.”
“We can buy Kwikie food there,” Wen cried joyfully. “Kwikie-sticks and Kwikie-chips, Kwikie-crunch and Kwikie chocolate cookies.”
“Good, Wen,” I said again, rounding the corner and entering the mini-mart's gates.
A bell sounded somewhere in the back as Wen immediately headed toward the junk food aisle. I was going to buy a box of chocolates, figuring Moosy might enjoy nuts and chews. While deciding between a two pound mixed assortment, or only dark caramels, the shop's bell dinged again and two sets of footfalls made their way across the floor. This was followed by what sounded like a happy squeal from the general direction of the cash register.
“Murmf bermuf yakwoof,” or something like it, a woman cried, followed by the sounds of kissing, hugging and slapping on the back.
“A nice reunion.” Wen sighed and pulled my arm. “Look Lancelot, Borf is with his wives.”
“Uh huh,” I murmured, snatching the dark caramels and the mixed nuts and chews off the shelf, before glancing up to see our roommate hugging two Andorian women at the register. “He's married to two?”
“Yep. And, he's got a husband, too,” Wen informed me, as my heart ceased to beat and the world briefly spun and turned black. This was not because of the revelation about Borf's family situation, but rather the fact that I recognized Moosy tucked in the middle of her family's arms.
“He's her dad, right?”
“Nope. He's one of her husbands. Didn't you know that?”
Apparently not. I dropped both boxes of chocolates on the floor, before passing out right on top of them.
Needless to say, my romantic lunch date with Moosy was canceled. While Borf, or her other husband, Murf, who had been stocking the refrigerated case with sodas in the back of the Kwikie-Mart, didn't object to me taking her out, they all wanted to go. And, they all wanted to discuss my marriage proposal, for as I found out, marrying Moosy would mean I would also inherit all of them.
“Thanks for the steak,” Wen declared later, wiping the last residue off his chin.
“No worries,” I replied with a heavy sigh. “At least, I still have you.”
Chapter 5: Jan
After those vehicles came and the shots sounded, I had no choice but to bring Dov home. I couldn’t leave him on the street, huddling in doorways, or hiding in trash bins until they found him. Inevitably, they would. Our village was tiny and those trucks were filled with men.
My mother wouldn’t take him in.
“A street orphan, Jan?” she cried. “You know what I think of this. If we bring one in and feed him, tomorrow there will be ten begging at our door. Go on, boy. Get you off my porch before anyone sees you here. Come back when you are alone, Jan.” Mother slammed the door.
I looked at Dov, expecting his tiny face to be flooded with tears. Instead, he just shrugged, and smiled a little, his bright blue eyes impassive. Taking him next door to my Aunt Ailana’s flat, I hoped there might be more compassion in my auntie’s heart.
“No,” Ailana snapped, refusing to open the screen. “Amyr is poorly today. I shan’t let him be exposed to the street urchin’s germs.” Then, she too slammed the door in our faces, in the same manner as my mother. However, a moment later, it was cracked open just enough to pass a bowl of soup in Dov’s direction. “Here. It’s from Amyr. He wishes to share, although why, I cannot fathom. Let the boy drink it and be gone before your uncle, Pellen arrives home from his day at work.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Dov said politely and eagerly even though Auntie had once again slammed the door.
I watched Dov drink the soup, swallowing it quickly in great gulps as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. It was kind of Amyr to share, but then again, my cousin always thought of every other before himself. When he was feeling poorly, as he did so often, he would make Auntie place his bowl outside to feed the people on the street.
“That was delicious.” Dov sighed and with the back of his hand, he swiped at a trickle running down his chin.
It wasn’t delicious, far from it actually, but to the starving child it could have been a meal fit for a king.
“I’ll thank my cousin for you,” I said, now taking the bowl back into Auntie’s house.
Dov watched me, his eyes anxious and pleading, as if begging to follow me inside.
I was sorry I couldn’t bring him in with me, for it would have been nice for him and Amyr to meet. Amyr would like him, I was certain. They might even become good friends. My cousin needed someone to play his games and keep him company, as no children came to visit except for me.
I didn’t have any friends either, but that was purely by my choice. Mostly, I preferred the solitude of my boat, having little patience for anyone else in this tiny village. Amyr, on the other hand, professed interest in all who passed by his window.
“That's because you haven't met anybody bad,” I told him. “Sitting here in your room, you meet only those who wish to see you, like doctors and nurses. Those sort of people are always nice.
“I have met the worst and more.” He smiled mischievously and raised an eyebrow as if I might challenge his words.
“Amyr has lived quite a life in his imagination,” Auntie Ailana replied.
I didn’t think that was so terrible. In a way, it made up for the poor life he was living here in this flat.
Amyr was as close to me as a brother since we were cousins and had been raised side by side. In fact, in some ways, I cared more for him than my own brother, Taul. Despite being sickly and strange, there was also something about Amyr that made him sort of wonderful, although I couldn’t say exactly what it was. Maybe, it was as simple as his imagination, something I lacked, or, maybe it was the joyful smile with which he greeted each day as if he was simply happy to be alive.
My mother said Amyr spoke as if he had the knowledge of many lifetimes in his soul, while my empty head indicated a soul that was completely new and blank. Daily, I attended school, filling my brain with language, science and math, while Amyr only ever left his house to visit the doctors. He wasn't strong enough to walk far, or even sit to hear a lesson. He didn't read either, for his odd eyes couldn't focus well enough upon a page. Yet, Amyr had knowledge of everything and would challenge me continuously with his thoughts, and I, four years older, would lose every debate.
Sometimes, I enjo
yed his challenges. When he was feeling well, his humor was worth the mental exercise. Other times, my cousin's presence grew quite wearing. Then, I would tell him goodbye and return to the welcome solace of my boat, the sea, and the fish, who would accept me and my humble thoughts without an interrogation.
“I wish to sail on your boat someday,” my cousin once said wistfully at my departure, filling me with remorse that I was leaving him again. “I would help you catch fish to sell. I would like to be upon the sea.”
“Perhaps, you will,” I replied. “When you are strong and healthy.”
He smiled and laughed a little, for he had never been either of those things.
“I might as well wish to grow wings and fly high above, upon the currents of air.”
“Tsk tsk,” my auntie would cluck, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “What sort of son do I have that cannot walk, but dreams of flying like a bird?”
My mother fretted a little about my reticence to socialize with anyone other than Amyr. She was afraid I would never find a man to marry, and thus, would depend on her throughout my life. I saw no issue with this. I was content in our village and our tiny home, fully satisfied with only her presence for my company.
In fact, when my brother, Taul returned from wherever he had gone, I felt his arrival as an unwelcome disruption to our routine. Our tiny house seemed only tinier with him spread upon the couch. My mother’s doting upon my brother, especially as his appearances became fewer and further between, bothered me like a tiny fish bone stuck in my throat.
During those days, I would spend more time out on my boat on the pretense we needed more fish to quench my brother’s appetite. If the weather did not cooperate, I would visit Amyr for long hours, even sleeping upon the floor next to his sofa or chair. I was always relieved when my brother set out again to wherever he chose to go and the pattern of my home returned to normal.
“The Korelesk army has come to the western border of the mountains,” Taul said, only weeks before the day that I met Dov. “It won’t be long until they are here at our doorstep. I’ve heard terrible things about the army and what they do to people like us.”
Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey Page 17
