Out
A series about Mars
by Daniel
E. Machado
Chapter 8
Blade secures her handtablet then glances
back over her shoulder to see if Fred has been watching Roselene only to
notice instead that all the other passengers seem to be hurriedly resetting
their tablets to something new. Fred waves back at her with a weak smile
then again closes his eyes.
The search for Roselene’s public calcite
had spread through the bus like a double-oxy fire. The guy seated across
from Blade could tell the site was a school public, but couldn’t tell which
school it was. Fred detects the murmur of commotion even before Jenkins
nudges him.
"Hey, Fredy. Where's the kid go to
school?"
"What?" Fred glances over at Jenkins
annoyed.
"The kid. You know, that little girl
up there. Where’d she use to go to school back in Bakersburg?"
"Why?" Fred's going to smack this
guy if he keeps up with this intrusive pervert bullshit.
"She’s doing some sort of interview
on the publics. Some of the guys up front want to watch."
Thumbing his tablet open Fred finds
Roselene’s last school in the files Blade has downloaded to him then flips
to the site.
"McKenny Pre-Elementary." Fred smiles.
"Ms Thomas."
This too spreads like a double-oxy
fire through the bus. After Roselene’s travelog the volume of chatter slowly
rises back to previous levels. Leaning out into the aisle Fred waves at
Blade as she turns to look back at him. Then he closes his eyes.
"So, what kind of name is Blade?"
Jenkins glances over at the name and company stenciled in black across
her locker. "And, DeSilva? She don’t look like no portagee to me."
"Give it up, Jenkins." Fred mumbles
as the bus climbs up into the egress ramp, its wheel motors reverberating
in the tunnel's sudden florescent green.
"Hey! Come on. Spill it, man! I mean,
here’s ol’fly-boy Fredy. Loner like the rest of us. Suddenly you pop up
with this killer, and I mean we are talking extremely killer
babe here. And, oh yah. Let’s not forget little miss chubby cheeks way-too-smart.
Dude, you got my what-the-fuck apps screaming about low data
input rates. So, spill, man!"
"I told you. She’s my cousin." Taking
another deep breath Fred closes his eyes and quietily repeats to himself:
I
will not reach over and choke the living shit out of this asshole…
I will not reach over and choke the living shit out of this asshole…
I will not reach over and…
"Yah, right. And, I’m your virgin
Aunt Bess."
"Jenkins, stop being such an fucking
asshole.
Blade is my cousin. My second cousin. I’ve known her since she was a baby.
We both just happen to be going out to Mars on the Jib at
the same time so we’re sharing quarters. This way she and the kid get to
live in Family and I don’t have to share a hot-bunk with some dumb-ass
shit-for-brains like you."
"Yah, right." Jenkins smirks.
"Truth, Jenkins." Fred
stares at the man with deadly earnest.
"No shit? So, like, you guys don’t...?"
"She’s my cousin, asshole."
"Yah, but… just a second cousin. You
know? I mean, the probability of genetic double recessive are like way
down around, I don't know, say..."
"She’s my fuckin' cousin,
asshole!" Fred's eyes squint open. "I don’t know about you back east inbred
trailer trash cracker motherfuckers, but we don’t fuck our cousins out
here in California! Now put it on Pause, Exit and Delete it!"
Fred looks less than a breath away from explosion. Quickly shoving his
nose back down into the news Jenkins decides it might be best to leave
the subject alone for a while.
Climbing up out of the egress tunnel
into the stark blue Mojave brightness the shuttle's window polarizers all
bump up to max just as the passengers all begin to press up against the
darkened glass. Squirming in her seat Roselene strains for a look out onto
the tarmac as the bus arcs out following a broad white line painted on
the ground.
"Where're our spaceship, Mommy?" Barely
discernible in the dry lake's distant bowl several dark multi-legged pyramids
stand like tiny toys against the surrounding hills.
"I not sure, Sweety."
"Mommy? How come some of the mountains
are all black?" Roselene knows what the quake rumpled hills around Southern
California are supposed to look like. The displays at school show their
velvet rolling variations every day.
"They had an accident here once, Sweety.
But, that was a long long time ago."
"Oh." The tone of her mother’s voice
tells Roselene that maybe she shouldn't ask any more. Back at the darkened
window Roselene watches the distant spaceships move off behind as the bus
continues to turn out onto the vast concrete tarmac.
"Where're we going, Mommy?"
"Lean over here and take a look."
Leaning across her mother’s lap Roselene strain out into the center aisle
for a look.
"You see that big thing out there?
I think that’s our OT."
"I can't see it good, Mommy." The
girl strains.
"Here." Blade reaches for her daughter's
handtablet. Soon the display shows the bus’ external forward public. The
bowed wide-angle image of the massive conical pyramid seem huge even on
Roselene’s tiny glitter purple handtablet. Quickly straining back at the
window the girl strains forward down the center aisle then glances at her
tablet. One tall tubular transport leg moves to center on her display as
her mother's handtablet chime a livelink. Fred’s face appears on her mother’s
display.
"You ready?" The handtablet asks as
Fred’s real voice echoing up faintly from behind.
"Ready as we’ll ever be." Blade replies.
"You want to wait for some of these guys to clear out before we try to
get off?"
"Yah. I’m going to get up and get
out of the way. You two just sit tight for a while." Fred’s image looks
concerned. "Ahh…"
"Ahh, what?" Blade squints back at
her tablet.
"Never mind. Once we get up into the
leglift we’ll be fine. Have you checked our route yet?
"Of course." Blade tells him annoyed.
"Okay. It’s just that, getting everything
up into the leglift is going to be…"
"Fred? Do you have your ear-bud in?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now listen, Fredy Boy." Blade
whispers close to her input. "One more crack out of you and I swear to
God, I’m gonna deck your ass right here on the bus. You got it?" Fred stares
silently back from her display for several moments before a bent smile
cracks his face.
"You know, we’re going to have to
work on our communications." He grins.
"Fredy!" Blade snaps down at her display
hot with frustration. "Stop quoting old flat-screen archives. I’m serious!"
"Okay, okay." The bus wheels grind
to a stop.
"Passengers will please remove
all carry-on baggage and disembark. Please move to the leglift and proceed
to the passenger section. Have a save and pleasant flight and enjoy flying
TransOrbital."
The passengers all stand as one. No
one shoves, though all seem anxious to disembark. The rear of the shuttle
slides open as the loading ramp nudges up onto it then locks into place.
"Mommy, can we go yet?" Roselene feels
anxious not to be standing with everyone else.
"Just wait a second, Sweety. Let’s
let some of the other passengers get off first."
"Are we being polite?" Her daughter
asks in all sincerity.
"That’s right, Sweety." Blade smiles
down at her wishing she’d thought of it. "We’re being polite."
Hitting her favorite fantasy-adventure
site settles in for a quick game of Dragon's Cross.
The bus clears quickly, the other
passengers thoroughly practiced at the art of securing their baggage for
egress after years of training missions. A single personal-effects locker
and wardrobe negotiate fairly easy; the wardrobe being equipped with shoulder
straps and the locker with a retractable handle and assist wheels. Fred
has done the drill at least four times in the past six months. But, hauling
out two lockers and a wardrobe is a different story entirely. On top of
which, Family lockers allow for an additional ten kilos of mass. Fortunately,
Jenkins had been right about one thing. It is easier to get
your locker out of an upper slot.
When the crowd thins down a bit Fred
stands to undog his and Roselene's lockers. Having used his locker's assist
wheels to move from the handcart to the bus Fred pulls Roselene’s locker
down first, its wheel batteries still fresh. For one brief moment Fred
worries about the used assist wheels on Blade’s locker but reminds himself
not to worry about it out loud.
"Cousin Fredy!" Roselene’s voice cuts
through the sound of hissing pneumatics and rumbling men like a bird's
song in a wind blown forest. "This rocket ship is really really
big!"
"They call it an OT, Rosie. Stands
for Orbital Transport." Fred secures his locker atop hers before reattaching
his wardrobe to the stack. Roselene creeps closer to the rear exit, straining
for a better view of the towering vehicle outside.
"Come away from the door." Blade motions
at her while tugging her locker from the bottom slot. "Your in the way.
These people need to get out."
"Oh, she don’t take up much room."
One of the men smiles as he lifts his locker up over the child. Blade ignores
the man, motioning Roselene over to her once again. Fred stands ready to
disembark.
"You want to lead or shall I?"
"You go ahead." Blade nods.
Reaching into his breast pocket for
his sunglasses Fred steps out into the bright wall of hot desert air hauling
close to his own mass in baggage. Sweat springs from every pore as he hauls
the stack of lockers down the bus ramp. The OT’s lift leg, a jointed cylinder
extending up into the vehicle's wide round bottom, seems considerably larger
than the other seven. Roselene looks out under the towering building-size
vehicle.
"What are all those?" Concentric circles
set in an arched grid catch the girl's attention. The large dark dents
cover the ship’s wide black bottom. Jet black cone shaped nozzles protrudes
from the center of each crater. Fred smiles as he follows the girl's finger.
"Those are the spikes. The rockets
that push us out into space."
"Uh uh." Roselene’s head shakes, her
face twisted up in disbelief. "Rockets are big, and they stick out. Those
are just little tiny stickery-things."
"You’ve been hitting too many adventure
sites." Smiling down a dubious squint Fred maneuvers his stack of lockers
up into the leglift platform. Up under the OT the odd cone shaped structure
seem more like a suspended building than a space vehicle capable of orbit.
The huge round pyramid stands supported on eight tiny legs, its dark shadow
below nearly black against the sunbaked tarmac.
"Mommy, I’m hot!" Roselene tugs at
her mother’s instantly sweaty jumper leg as the heat and bright desert
sky give Blade an instant headache.
"Just a minuet, Sweety. The lift is
on its way down. It’ll be nice and cool once we get inside."
"Will we have to go up all crooked?"
Roselene’s head tilts up the OT’s long leaning leg. They both smile at
each other then down.
"No, Sweety." Blade tries to explain.
"The leglift has this kind of round cage thingy inside that keeps it always
pointed upright."
"God, I love it when you talk technical."
Fred teases. "This kind of round cage thingy. I like it. It's simple,
descriptive, technically devoid of all content. It’s great. Do quantum
physics for us next."
"Oh, shut up, Fred." Blade smiles,
enjoying his cleaver barbs despite her growing discomfort. The wide round
footpad surrounding the leglift’s double doors begins to vibrate under
their feet as the doors hiss open to reveal a large roundish box with a
domed ceiling. Roselene dashes in first. Naturally.
"Hurry up, Mommy. It’s cool inside
here!"
"Well at least she can’t run off."
Fred mumbles from behind. Blade looks around suspicious of his meaning
but Fred merely smiles as if all in pure jest.
"Listen. She’s only four. And, this
is very exciting for her; okay?"
"To tell you the truth, it’s a little
exciting for me too."
"Exactly." Blade stands quiet for
a moment. "Tell you what. Let’s let her bounce off the walls until we all
get seated. Then I’ll get her to take a nap. That should give us at least
an hour or so of peace before take-off."
"Sounds good." Fred nods. Like
I’ve got a choice.
Surprisingly enough, this really does
turn out to be a good deal for Fred. To his complete amazement Blade puts
Roselene down for a nap with the simple phrase: "Here’s a pillow and blanket.
Now give me your tablet. You can have it back when you wake up." The girl’s
protest is short, relatively quiet, and an apparently just ritual. She
droops off into sleep with a small cottony blanket and travel pillow tucked
into her zero-g webbing. In less than an hour the vibration of forty-eight
aero-spike engines simultaneously completing their final warm-up cycles
works up through their seats. A flutter of nerves butterflies swirls up
through Fred’s stomach.
"Should we wake her?" Fred asks looking
down at the child sleeping between them.
"Why?" Blade glances back. "You know,
I once carried Roselene asleep through three separate subway transfers.
I’m talking: picking her up, throwing her over my shoulder, hauling her
out into the station, then hauling her back into another coach, putting
her back down…"
"I get it! I get it." Fred waves his
hand. "So, you think her patch will work?"
"You are a worry-wart, aren’t you?"
Blade stares back at him flatly. "Yes. I activated her skin patch before
I put her down for nap. And, no, she’s not prone to motion sickness, so
you can save your extra barf bags."
"Listen." Fred attempts a smile. "I
worry; okay? Sometimes I worry about Roselene. Sometimes I worry about
you. Mostly I worry about myself. I just don't want anything to go wrong
right now; okay?"
Watching Fred study the final launch
procedures from the OT’s bridge publics Blade decides she just may like
her cousin after all.
Even if he is a worry wart.
"So, I didn’t notice the logo on the
side when we were down at the lift. What’s this OT called?" Blade asks.
"SS Starbucks 3."
"Figures." Her head shakes as she
looks back at the external archive. "You know, that’s one of the thing
I’m definitely not going to miss about Earth."