Part 1- Drive
Another long day.
He steadied his trembling hands,
resting them on the lip of the sink and tried to breathe evenly but the flash
took him anyway; blood, screams, traitor!
Ned scrunched his eyes shut. When he
finally opened them, all he saw was his own washed out complexion, stone grey
eyes edged with weariness, silently saying , Ned, O’ Ned, why are you here?
Perhaps you would’ve been better off slumming it Mars-side with a bottle in one
hand and a sidearm in the other, set to take a sip from either.
He dismissed the reflection, looking instead
at the brushed metal sink where a droplet of water beaded, making its slow but
fate-destined trip toward the black hole that was the Ship’s plumbing. He
gripped the edge as if he himself were that droplet, about to plummet and lose itself to oblivion. Its molecules
destined for the re-cycler and transformation, to become something shiny and
new. Something useful.
Not even this starship could outrun his problems. They’re
too big, fat and wide. Even all the way across the galaxy they bordered him
like a problem neighbour with a shotgun.
Infinity had squashed her fat girth
into fold-space, penetrating that black event horizon with the same bullish
enthusiasm as an officer visiting a Consort House whilst on shore-leave. Difference being, this was a whole
lot less titillating. To his point of view they were just trading one dead rock
for half a dozen more. Woopie-do-da…yay!
The best Ned could hope for was some down time, not enough to make him spin his
wheels in a slick puddle of whisky, but just enough to sleep and forget.
Alas, sadly a temporary state of being, on those rare nights
which he was able to get some sleep.
Ned was a late bloomer to the space
game. He had grown up on Mars and spent fifteen years running security in the
Eastern Rad-zone. After a relationship gone rotten, and a bad case of ‘I don’t
want to get up from my bunk except to eat the end of a blaster’, (those were
the easy parts) he had finally decided to leave it all behind for the ‘all that
glitters being gold’, stars. What he got instead was cold, dark loneliness, with
a shot of regret.
He left the restroom and started
down the hall, when She sidled up to
him in that way that she often does, her footfalls far too soft for sanity’s
comfort.
“Hiya Ned.”
He had signed up the same day as this pint
sized bane of his existence, but to be completely honest most of the crew at
one time or another have been worthy of that prestigious title.
Not just her.
“Not now, Mish,” he growled, implying
the scheduled meeting with his pillow was unmissable. His resolve was harder than a titanium plated chastity belt, Damn it!
“Oh… shame. Raffety finally opened
up the Rec centre. There’s a bar! You don’t need to hide in ya cave and drink
alone anymore Ned.”
“I like drinking alone.”
She smirked. “You’ll like drinking
with me more.” That self-assured smile of hers, rattling his previously intact
resolve, which
was fast becoming a box of spare parts in her mischievous hands.
She was capable of untold chaos, and
he had stupidly covered for her… more than once. She had this way about her. She twisted his
guts into a tangle with her oddball charm, holding a fistful of his entrails
while he fell from the speeding bus that was life. It made him almost want to grab hold
of something… something other than her, he told himself firmly. He was too old
and bitter for crushes. This wasn’t a school yard, this was space: dark, dirty
and dangerous.
Dirty, God help him.
Ned ran both hands down his face,
the scratchy rasp of neglected stubble against his palms reminding him he had
had too many rushed starts following late nights. He shouldn’t.
The last time he had joined her
party of one, he’d been embroiled in the defacing an academy monument. No, not one of his finer moments.
Despite sharing Mish’s dislike of
their employer, he should’ve known better than to get involved, he could’ve
lost his place on this boat. Although days like today, made him wonder if that
would’ve been such a tragedy. Coulda,
woulda, shoulda, taunted those discordant little voices, playing
shout-over-each-other, inside his tired, overwrought mind. The fact remained that there was no-one
better to take his place, so fate played his hand for him, but he would’ve been
slapped with deuces either way.
Truth be told, he was more than a
little drawn by her method of mischief, which seemed to so effectively stave
off the boredom. Idleness was a bad
thing. It made him dwell, and dwelling while surrounded by the big black
nothing of space was really bad. It was a fast way to lose sanity, hope,
everything.
Come on, do it Ned.
“Oh what the hell, just one.”
“Ace.” She whispered, soft and
drawn-out on the s note as if she had won some sort of prize.
Yea, he could spend this voyage
feeling sorry for himself and griping at the unfairness of this sadomasochistic
universe which got its jollies from deliberately shafting him whichever way he
bent over, or he could drink, crack a grim smile, and god forbid …maybe even
laugh, all the while hoping the consequences of such overwhelming fun was
minimal.
Gawd, he was so weak, trailing after her (all puppy-like),
as if she were made out of brightly coloured chew toys.
***
Dim lighting, good.
The amber liquid swished
provocatively around the glass’s edge. Its soft lap, drawing him deeper.
He hunched down over that pretty
glass of scotch and glared across the room furtively. Mish had abandoned him
and was currently talking with Brindley. She leaned over the gawky engineer’s
table in more of a
conspiratorial than seductive fashion. Anxiety nibbled away at his nerve-jellied gut as he watched Brindley, who was relentlessly trapped in
Mish’s gaze, hanging on her every word. Poor
fool.
Her exotic southern drawl was enhanced by the slow twist and
pout of her pink lips. Ned was captivated, even though the exact form of her
words were indistinct over the murmur and flow of several dozen other
conversations around him.
No, he didn’t want to know… and
looked away until his brooding pulled him back. She was now looking over at him,
smiling. He knew that smile, it meant, Put on ya
seat belt boy let’s go for one helluva ride.
He drowned the prickles of
anticipation that suddenly needled their way down the back of his neck with a flow of amber
fire. His ulcer protested, kicking him in
the guts vehemently as if to say- You
punish me, I’m gonna punish you, dumbass.
She plonked down on the seat next to
him and mirrored his lean-at-the-bar-to-forget, drinking position.
“You ain’t planning anything that'll
force my hand are ya?” Ned growled across at her. “The brig is there for a
reason you know.”
“Come on, Ned. It's just all
harmless fun.”
“Harmless huh?” Harmless like the time she borrowed a Gravity Field Generator from the
academy labs and set it up inside the men’s restroom. He’d been glad he
wasn’t the one tasked with mopping up that ceiling, doubly thankful he hadn’t
been caught up in the inverted polarity field with the dozen or so other
recruits. Damn messy business.
“What’s up with Brindley then?”
She smirked and opened her hand,
showing him what she had palmed. A pass
key. “Looky what I have here, Neddy boy.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, “what
do you need that for?”
She leaned forward, her voice
dropping a notch past appropriate. “Cargo hold, 20 minutes.” He held her gaze
for a tad beyond awkward, only managing to tear it away to refocus on that
sweet liquid courage gripped tight in his calloused hand.
“That’s
enough.” Her hand rested upon the glass, and her breath disturbed the brown
hair curling around his ear, flooding him with a too-warm heat. “I’m relying on
you to be the sober driver Ned…”
She left him, mind buzzing with all
sorts of unlikely possibilities, he gulped, mouth suddenly sandy dry.
***
He plucked up the courage,
eventually.
The massive Cargo area’s doors were
already open, revealing the cavernous space beyond, a stretch that ran for half
a mile. He strode into the main causeway, standing astride the crane tracks and
raked a hand through bad-day-encrusted hair.
“Talk about keeping a girl waiting.
Are you playing hard to get, Ned?”
He rounded on the sound of her
voice. She was standing beside a large container, it was open and she wore a
devious smile. He ambled over, determined to keep the well-worn expression of
stern disapproval resident.
She planted hands on slim hips.
“What do ya think? I heard they had these babies tucked away down here and
Brindley owed me a favour. Got him to do some digging around in the cargo
manifest last time he was down here, and voila! We have our ride.”
A nearby flood-lamp lit the small
Terrain rover’s hard metal struts. The over-sized, fat, pimpled wheels still had that off-the-factory-floor
shine.
“Isn’t it all dinky and cute-like…
and she’s gagging to be taken out Ned,” She cooed huskily. With trademark Mish-like enthusiasm
she pounced up the ramp and climbed in. She tilted her head toward the seat
beside her. “Come on.” Eyes flashing, if
you dare.
“This is unauthorized access of a
military grade vehicle,”
he muttered, more as a reminder to
himself than anything else, but that didn’t stop his feet from betraying good sense and climbing that ramp. The other
part of him
rationalised, if you’re driving, she can’t possibly make trouble. You traitor Ned.
The fission batteries rang their
merry start-up song, readying the rover's hybrid gas system. He gripped the wheel, so much power at his fingertips. He was instantly taken
back to those long straight runs on the Mars wastes where he could just open up
and go, drive away from the guilt, from the nightmares -- at speed. Glad to be
free of them, if even just for a moment.
Once at full charge, the engine
grunted into action with a throaty chug. With the choke still on, he applied
the gas, testing her purr. She sang, longing to leap and tear up infinity’s
long graceful stretch.
He reached across Mish and pulled at
her safety harness, clicking it in place. His hand brushed her forearm
accidentally. “Safety first,” he growled, all
business like. Her skin, soft and
warm, unlike this ship, which was so hard and cold.
He fastened his own and looked
across at his co-pilot as she swept stray hair back with excited and jittery
hands. She met his eyes, her own gleaming with unshed tears, “Thanks, Ned.” She
mouthed, her thickened voice only just audible.
It was then that Ned realized.
Something was bothering the little devil. Perhaps he had seen glimpses before
but just chose to chalk it up to a predictably troubled childhood. He hadn’t
pried. Didn’t really want to. It wasn’t that he didn’t care… She just shouldn’t trust someone like him…
Hell! He couldn’t even carry with his own load, let alone load up on anyone
else's.
He drowned out the excuses, gunning
the gas. The engine roared as they lurched out of the container and down the
ramp. He turned the wheel sharply and hand-braked the corner lining her up
perfectly along the crane tracks. Floodlights spotted the stretch, which yawned
before them longing to be filled with fast, loud fun.
“A long road,” she said, her tone unusually
serious.
“Yea Mish, it is.” And he couldn’t
help wondering what was going be at its end.
***
