Kaman's World

by Bartholomew Thockmorton

Kaman’s World

  By Bartholomew Thockmorton

  Copyright 2011 Bartholomew Thockmorton

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment; but it may be shared with friends, family or acquaintances as long as it is maintained in its entirety. If you are reading this book and enjoy it, please check out my other works by visiting the link below. Thank you for respecting the hard work of Bartholomew Thockmorton. May your days be long and merry.

  This work is dedicated to Mama, who gave me my life-long love for the entire Superman family. I miss you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Thockmorton Territory

  Chapter One

  As Betty Elizabeth Tabatha Hinderken entered the Oasis Seaside Bar and Grill, she was challenged in deciding which struck her harder, the oppressive heat or the relentless glare. She stepped fully inside, allowing the sliding doors to close.

  Before her, the stark white sand, reflecting harsh, artificial sunlight, extended into the distance, changing to soft gradations of gray on her left where the waves rolled gently onto the beach. The water, covered with light, frothy foam where the waves churned, started out crystal-clear, revealing silvery minnows and small, darting fish patrolling the shore, the color soon changing to incremental shades of baby-blue with increasing depth, at last shifting to deeper and deeper hues, stretching to the artificial horizon. Betty wondered just how far the real water went and where the holo-cast began. The small children playing in the shallow surf with minimal adult supervision gave strong indication—no young ones would ever drown in this playground of the mind.

  Overhead, delicate clouds cast swift shadows sailing across the beach, mixing with the smaller silhouettes from the wheeling gulls filling the air with their cries. Sandpipers skittered back and forth in time with the waves, pausing to peck up occasional tidbits there exposed.

  Island palms, their fronds swaying, rustling in the pleasant breeze, started a dozen meters from the water, spotting the beach sparsely at first, but becoming thicker in their groupings, establishing the bounds of the shore from the inland proper. Nestled within the leaning trunks, the shaded, thatched-roofed bar, bamboo stools lining its counter, stood surrounded by tables of varying sizes, each with its own umbrella of fronds supported by a central pole, each also swaying to the gentle caress of the wind. Most of the tables were occupied with colony citizens or tourists of all ages.

  Betty reached into her shoulder bag, donning florescent-pink-framed sunglasses, tiny, dancing flamingo’s protruding along the outside edges. She already wore a broad-brimmed hat, bikini, beach shirt and sandals. For any unprepared patron that might enter from the mall’s corridor on a whim, a walk-in kiosk to the right of the doors offered swimsuits, sunglasses, hats, towels, beach-toys, chairs, vid-discs, mellow-vapor and just about anything else a tourist could want or imagine. But the prices were…well…astronomical; regulars from the colony knew to bring their own.

  She selected a table with abundant shade seeing as how they kept the heat cranked as high as possible to guarantee guests would order plenty of cool refreshments. As soon as she sat and placed her bag on the sand next to her chair, Marty leapt from within and scrambled into her lap. Nearby patrons watched curiously, trying to figure out what the small creature actually was. Marty reminded people of many things, but more than anything else, he most resembled a member of the polecat family—the honey badgers, ferrets, meerkats, coatis, minks, skunks, mongooses and martins—hence the name…Marty. Even this small animal fell prey to Betty’s game of assigning fanciful names to everything around her.

  Where most folks went astray was trying to identify Betty’s furry companion as some creature indigenous to Old Earth. It was a useless endeavor, for Marty (or even his most remote ancestors, for that matter) hailed not from mankind’s home planet…not even from the Terra system. The two-kilo ball of furry energy was in actuality the first true, bona fide, honest-to-gracious, believe-it-or-go-to-Hoboken alien ever brought back by a System Searcher. Which had quite a bit to do with the fact that Betty and her husband, Sam, were the first, and to date, only search team to discover an Earth-normal planet. Christened Xanadu (by Betty), the world lay slightly more than 2000-light-years distant, and had made them wealthy beyond all dreams of avarice.

  First, they were granted full title to their exploration vessel, the Bucket-of-Bolts, or B.O.B., for short. Including the lander, the Flipper-Doodle, hard-docked to the top of the main vessel when not in use. Plus four shuttles: two large vessels housed in the B.O.B.’s interior bays, and two smaller craft in the Doodle. The entire compliment built by the Cranston Corporation, the most powerful business entity in the Oort cloud, and assigned to qualified crews via a system-wide lottery. But along with the vessels came a cash bounty of ten billion credits—something the initial exploratory fleet of twenty-three ships had competed for fervently until Betty and Sam discovered Xanadu.

  A young server hurried over to Betty’s table to take her order, but pulled up short when he caught sight of Marty, standing and extending his nose, testing the air at the man’s approach. Betty placed a reassuring hand on the animal’s head and looked over the top of her glasses.

  “I’ll have a Banded Bomber, please.”

  “Very good, ma’am. But I’m afraid you can’t bring that…whatever that is…in here.”

  “What? Marty? But why ever not?”

  When the young man pointed back towards the bar, Betty followed his gesture, looking everywhere for whatever he was indicating. After a few moments, she noticed the small sign posted beside the shelves of exotic liqueurs: “NO DOGS OR PETS ALLOWED”. She mused at the insipid ambiguity of the wording…were not dogs pets? She could not imagine the reasoning implied…but she also pretty much did not care.

  “That’s all right,” she said, picking up the small creature and rubbing her nose to his. “Marty’s obviously not a dog…and he is also not my pet!”

  When the man stood awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot while casting nervous glances back towards the bar, Betty took off her sunglasses and sighed in exasperation.

  “Look, I’m here on business…not vacation. I don’t have time or the patience for this nonsense. I have the permits and the clearance to take Marty anywhere I so please…so be a good boy and fetch my drink…pretty please?”

  “Same old Betts! Causing grief and trouble wherever she goes!”

  The woman turned around to see who had spoken, even though she was sure she recognized the voice. Betty was right, of course, and jumped up to hug the elderly oriental gentleman. He also wore a swimsuit and a loud, colorful Hawaiian shirt, covered in great whites leaping, crashing through waves, clutching struggling surfers in their maws. But his head was uncovered, showing the light, gray hairline in full retreat from his brow. Betty gave the man a strong, sincere embrace and gestured to a chair.

  “Kaman Wantanabe! You no-good dog! How the hell’ve you been…sit…sit! What’ll you have?”

  “Bring me two of what she’s having,” he told the server. “And some sandwiches…one of each kind you got! But make sure you put it all on her tab!”

  The fellow moved away, but not without repeated glances to Marty and the woman.

  “Betty, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again…after, what? Seventeen months? And you and Sam actually did it! You’re the first! A whole planet! Damn girl! Wish it had been me and Kiro…but if it had to be someone else, I’m glad it was you!” While he gushed over Betty, Marty approached, sitting before him, as if patiently waiting to b
e noticed. And Kaman had been noticing, from the moment the animal looked at him, but caution overrode his curiosity. He had been paying particularly keen attention since the moment Marty laconically yawned widely, displaying a mouth-full of needle-like fangs.

  “So this is your stoat, huh? The visitor from Xanadu? Cute little squirt…”

  “Go ahead, Kam…you can touch him! He loves it when you scratch his chin.”

  Tentatively, the man began to rub Marty’s head, and as he did, the small animal slowly crept into his lap, snuggling there, at last rolling over and exposing his belly in open invitation to scratch there too.

  “What a remarkable little fellow,” Kaman said as he playfully tickled Marty’s neck and chest. “Who would imagine he’s a wild animal…and they’ve found no others?”

  “Not a one! Damnedest thing the biologists have ever seen…said the planet appears to host some sort of insane, upside-down, runaway trophic cascade. In fact, Marty seems to be the only carnivorous mammal on the whole world! Crazy huh?”

  “I think you named the planet well…that’s what I think!”

  “So where’s your brother?” continued Betty. “Working on your ship?”

  When Kaman looked up slowly, Betty could not mistake the sadness there, even though he tried not to show it. She immediately made one of those intuitive leaps so ingrained in her nature, realizing what must have happened and quickly placed her hand tenderly on his shoulder.

  “Oh, Kam…oh, god, Kam…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…when?”

  “Little over a month ago, Betty,” he replied, trying to smile bravely so as not to increase the woman’s discomfort. “We were doing surface surveys on a planet about 400 light-years out…a landslide caught us by surprise. I jumped out of the way, but Kiro…he was too close.” He stopped for a moment and let his attention return to Marty. “It was fast, thank heavens…he didn’t suffer.”

  “Good afternoon folks! I’m the on-duty manager…and how are we doing today?”

  Betty and Kaman looked up to find a dapper-dressed gentleman standing before them, his hands clasped in a neutral, non-offensive manner. His smile conveyed sentiments that he was genuinely unhappy to intrude…but, of course it was his job, you understand. Behind the manager, the young server stood uncomfortably, trying not to meet the hostile glares of the other nearby patrons. He unconsciously rung a bar towel over and over in his anxiety, obviously wishing he could be anywhere but there.

  “I’m ever so sorry to be so insistent in regards to our ‘no pets’ policy…but the owner is not—how shall I put this? —an animal lover…let us say. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist…”

  Betty held up her hand patiently. “Hold that thought…” She reached into her bag, and withdrew her wrist-communicator. Unlike her husband, and most colony members, Betty eschewed any and all cybernetic implants, so she had to resort to external devices for such mundane chores as talking to someone elsewhere. Keying a series of codes, she detached and inserted the external speaker in her ear to insure privacy.

  “Claire? Betty…no, no, nothing’s wrong,” she gave Marty a pat when he came over to check out what she was doing. “Sure…yeah, I haven’t forgotten! Yeah…we’ll be there…I promise…look, I need a favor. You know the Oasis? Isn’t it though? Yep…yep—that’s it! Marty…yeah…no, no…I need a wipe and swipe…now actually…exactly! Try to set a record! Bye!” She dropped the radio back into the bag and folded her hands, all the while smiling sweetly at the manager.

  “What the heck’s that all about?” asked Kaman. “Claire? Wait a minute…not Claire Murphy? As in the Cranston Corporation Murphy?”

  “Claire Louiston…she’s married now, remember? I was maid of honor at the wedding!”

  “Dang! Really? You always did manage to surprise me at every turn…” Kaman stopped when he saw the woman’s attention was elsewhere.

  The manager now had a hand to his ear…closely listening to a voice only he could hear. The call lasted but a few short moments. Suddenly, it was over, and he looked at Betty in puzzled disbelief. “You…you bought the Oasis?”

  “Yeah, man!” she replied, leaning over and playfully slapping Kaman on the arm. “Claire’s good! Her speed even surprises me! Of course she owns the corporation that owns the entire colony. You know what that means now, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, of course…I’ll clean out my office immediately…”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” interrupted the woman. “You’re employment status hasn’t changed…just your employer! Now prove to me you’re smarter than you’re acting…get behind that bar and take care of business!”

  The man smiled and gave a slight bow, then quickly walked over to the bar, went behind the counter and lifted the “NO DOGS OR PETS ALLOWED” sign from the back wall. Holding it up for Betty to see, he pointed to it while raising his eyebrows in askance. When she nodded and gave him a thumbs-up, he leaned over and dropped the sign into a large trash receptacle on the other side of the counter.

  When the woman turned back to Kaman, she noticed the waiter, mouth hanging open, still standing there. She cleared her throat loudly, and when she had his attention, motioned for him to move along.

  “Well,” she frowned at him. “Do you work here, or what?”

  The young man stammered a muddled apology and hurried away to get their order.

  During this entire time, Kaman sat quietly, watching Betty with the slightest of smiles. Now he leaned forward, picked up Marty, returning him to his lap, and resumed stroking his head. “Being filthy rich is great, isn’t it?”

  “Hell yeah it is! But don’t get the wrong idea…it hasn’t really changed my life…just the way I live it!” She actually succeeded in keeping a straight face for about five seconds, then they both burst into fits of laughter, drawing inquisitive stares from some of the nearby patrons. Marty opened one eye to see if anything was important enough to require his attention, but deciding everything was normal, went back to dozing.

  The drinks came shortly thereafter, and just as Kaman had ordered, a platter with over two dozen different sandwiches came with them. That and an unbelievably large bowl of all sorts of diced fruits and shelled nuts. They both dug in, and after they had their fill, Betty carried the platter of sandwiches from table to table, offering other citizens to take their pick. When the sandwiches were gone, she decided that wasn’t enough and announced to all present that for the remainder of the afternoon, any and all food items ordered were on the house.

  The elderly Searcher watched it all in wonder, marveling at the joy and surprise the young woman brought to all. When she at last returned to their table, he again turned serious, telling her it was about time to get down to business.

  “Okay,” she said. “You mentioned you had something important to share…what’s the buzz?”

  “Kiro and I were onto something big when that landslide hit us,” he said. “I was just a little to one side when it started, jarring loose all that debris.”

  “You can’t blame yourself, Kam. Your brother wouldn’t have wanted that. How long did it take you to dig him out?”

  “You don’t understand, Betts…I didn’t! The whole upper side of that mountain came down at us!” He paused to take a long pull on his drink and signaled for another when it was drained, even though he had yet to touch his second glass. “I stayed there for another two-weeks trying to get him back…almost got myself killed a couple of times when all that regolith kept settling! Finally called it quits…and came on back to the colony…”

  “And you called me for help? Figured Sam and I would lend a hand for old times sake? We’d be glad to help you get him back, Kam!”

  “No, Betty…no,” he said, hanging his head in resignation. “I’m quits…Kiro’s gone. I’ve already turned the ship back over to the corporation…told them they could go to the next name from the lottery…”

  “Oh, Kam! No! You’ve worked too hard to do that…it’s not what Kiro would have wanted…
”

  “Give it up, Hinderken! The old fool’s washed-up and out…ain’t worth a bucket of warm spit!”

  Once again they turned to see who intruded on their conversation.

  “For crying out loud,” groaned Betty in renewed annoyance. “What the hell is this…butt-wipe Wednesday?”

  “Is this a friend of yours?” asked Kaman. “Would you talk to Betty like that if Sam were here?”

  The man gave a dismissive, snort of a laugh. “If that turd was anywhere around, I couldn’t handle the smell!”

  “What do you want Struther?” asked Betty. “It’s not like you to waste your time talking to me.”

  “Shows you just how wrong you can be,” replied the man. “As much as it grates my ‘nads, I just thought I’d congratulate you…didn’t notice Want-a-backbone here…or I woulda stayed away.” Despite his words, the man sat opposite the others. “Matter of fact…I have a favor to ask. Concerns that new planet you found.”

  Betty looked at the newcomer as if he had suddenly grown a second head. “You can’t be serious! Struther…is this your idea of a joke? Time to lay off the mellow-vapor…why on Earth…or anywhere else, would I do you a favor?”

  The young man sat calmly, oblivious to Betty’s unveiled sarcasm. He leaned way forward, taking a handful of nuts from the fruit bowl, and began nonchalantly tossing them into his mouth a few at a time, while waving at a server to come take his order. Unknown to all, these three actions would momentarily become the locus of events gone outrageously awry. Unfortunately, Betty’s good mood and relaxed state of mind did not allow her to key into the one thing that could possibly turn this quiet afternoon into a disaster of unfortunate consequences.

  Here we must digress somewhat and take one or more steps back from our observation of these events. It should be mentioned that one critical element of this scene has gone unmentioned for some moments, and thus has most likely been subsequently forgotten…and Marty should never be regaled to such a position. For one of this creature’s remarkable traits is that he’s most keenly attuned to Betty’s mood and state-of-mind—Sam’s also, but he is not present, so he fortunately does not play a part in the unfolding tableau.