Romany
Galactica ~ Part 1 of 4
By
Len Morgan
“Sonny, wake up we’re approaching Flagstaff
She listened to his asthmatic wheezing. He hawked and spat at a
1970’s poster for a Sonny and
“Quit naggin woman,” he staggered to the galley, fixed his gaze on
the icebox. It opened to a snap of his fingers. He grabbed at salvation and
downed it in one.
“Feel better now do we?” Her scorn was evident.
He threw the bottle into the disposal, leaned over the sink and
heaved, “Hersuse, what was I drinking last night?”
“We picked it up in the Scottish system. They call it Scotch
whiskey.”
“Those guys should learn how to make decent Bourbon. That Scotch
will never catch on.”
“Let’s pretend you never said that...”
“Oh no, what did I do? Don’t tell me…”
“You purchased three thousand cases of Scotch and two of Bourbon.
You used up the last of our trading credit bozo.”
“I said don’t… So we sell it on Flagstaff
“Problem!”
“Go on?”
“This is a dry system. No alcohol or drugs planet-side.”
“So, why did you bring us here? Don’t—“
“You stuck a finger on the vidscreen and said take us there.”
“Shit!”
“That’s what I said but you’d already passed out.”
“You should have tried to wake me up.”
“I did. All you said was ‘Quit naggin’. Three minutes to abort.”
“Abort?” He spat several times and wiped his mouth on a napkin
which he threw with pinpoint accuracy.
“Shit fer brains! Never heard of the recycling bin? You’re such a
slob. Why does everything end up in the disposal unit? It took me three days to
repair it last time, you have no respect for this ship.”
He grinned, entered the comms pod, and pressed [missed
calls].
‘Captain of one-man cruiser Cher ,
y’all come back now. Confirm your origin and destination.’
--He pressed [Next].
‘Captain, answer our hail, we’re targetin ye with Nooks. If ye
approach by half a mill miles, without identification, yer ship will be gas.
Y’all hear me now.’
--He pressed [Next].
“You’re final warnin Captain, ye have two minutes…”
--He pressed [End OK], then [Reply].
“Captain Bono of the one-man cruiser Cher ,
out of New Chicago, ye hear me? Why don’t yous answer me damn-it, y’all
comeback.”
“Captain, we bin callin fer nigh on an hour, mayhap your comms are
fricasseed?”
“I can hear you just fine now you’ve decided to pick-up. We’re
bound for Vegas with a cargo of Bourbon and Scotch.”
“Man, yer timin’s impeccable, Vegas’s nearin dry. You know our
rules; you gotta turn 50% of yer poke into goods produced here on Flagstaff
“Hello, hello? I missed the last part of your message, thought you
was telling me how to spend my money? Come back now. Hello, h_l_o…” He stepped
out of the comms pod, “I thought you said Flagstaff
“I lied!”
“Why didn’t I get a simple computer installed? Something reliable
and efficient, no hassle…”
“Because I wrote your employment contract Captain Bozo.”
“It's Bono! The ship is your responsibility, but the cargo is
mine. I’m not landing here with a clean-up cargo without knowing what I’m gonna
get for it. What do they produce here, woman?”
“Heavy metals, radioactive's, crystals – diamond, sapphire, ruby –
synthetic and natural - platinum, gold, silver, designer drugs…”
“You’re shittin me! Nothing of real value?” he asked.
“They mine deutridium on the outer asteroids; they design ships,
and build some of the finest deep space cruisers in this arm of the Galaxy.
They also do refits, something we’re in dire need of.”
“Deutridium, isn’t that used in the production of synthetic
flesh?”
“Yea, they have a Synth Industry but their laws only allow
inhabitants two synth bodies then they are expected to live out their natural
span planet-side.”
“So they tend to live a full life before their first
regeneration?” He smiled. “Find out what happens to their minds at the exit
gate. Are they planted in standard CM's when their final synth pops its cork?”
“I’m on it!”
He sat down and opened a bottle of Scotch.
“I thought you said…”
“Button it! I do the thinking around here.”
“Haha, yea.”
“Have you got me an answer yet?”
“Their minds are recycled, and stored in standard Cryo Memory
cubes, like mine.”
“Ho Flagstaff, master’s credentials and ships manifest piggabak on
this trans; will report for ret-scan on arrival, mess-ends 18:24 GST.” He
pressed [Send] and took another slug of Scotch.
“Their nukes are standing down.”
“Did I ever tell you a distant ancestor of mine was ringed-up with
the girl on that poster? The real Cher ?”
“A hundred times, but never while you were sober.”
“His name was Sonny too. She was a real looker, he was a lucky
guy.” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he took another pull from his
bottle.
“Ah, can’t we dock before you get pissed out of your skull, man?”
His answer was to raise the bottle to his lips and slurp.
“Guess I’ll put some fresh stim-soba’s in the icebox.”
.-…-.
He dabbed his eyes with sterilene lint, ret-scan always caused his
eyes to water and blurred his vision. He’d been advised to sit and allow them
to recover naturally, but he wasn’t big on taking advice. A figure loomed ahead
of him and they collided. Has to be a woman, he thought they don’t make
‘Midnight in Paris
“Watch where you’re going, you drunken lout!”
His heart stopped, he knew that voice. He took a deep breath,
“Anju?”
“Bono? The years haven’t been kind to you have they.”
He dabbed his eyes again enough to see the outline of her face,
“It is you…”
“Ret-scan? It used to have that effect on me until I became head
of security here, now I don’t have to submit to it.”
“Same old Anju, rules are for others eh?”
“Wrroah, and what scam are you planning to unleash on our
unsuspecting populace?”
“Should imagine you already have them all tied up.”
“I’m now a responsible citizen, a pillar of the community.”
“Pillow? Ah, still sleeping around.”
“Whatever it is you’re up to, I’ve thought of it first and I’ll
catch you at it!” she warned.
He raised his eyes in mock surprise, “who me?”
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Bono.”
“So let me see, it's, been five years? You marooned me on an
uninhabited asteroid, stole my heart and my ship, now you’re accusing me of
running a scam. You really must hate me.”
“Look I, I’m running late for a meeting but I’ll catch up with
you, soon ok? We can snipe all you want and draw a line under the past,” she
gave him a quick smile then she was gone.
He sat on a massage chair, he felt as if he’d been punched in the
stomach. He thumbed several coins into the slot and sat back to reflect.
Copyright Len Morgan
(to be continued/…)
Like this a lot Len. Gritty, fast moving and believable (sort of). Seems like human nature does not improve in the future. Like the snatches of humour.
ReplyDeleteJust a couple of very minor points - don't think you need the inverted commas surrounding buzz saw and there is a typo when you say 'I Lied.'
You are right, so I amended as you suggested. Many thanks!
ReplyDeleteLiked reading your sci fi opener Len. At times I had scenes fro Phillip P Dick pumping through my head, other times Total recall and even a little bit of star wars and blade runner.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to the next chapter.