VII: Scarfish
The sleek, modern space station drifted silently in orbit around the Earth. It was the spindle-style station, spinning slowly. It was mostly dark, as the Russian crew had powered down all but the essential functions when they departed, to conserve the station’s energy while awaiting the arrival of the new crew. As the station completed a full rotation, it was clear that one of the external airlocks had been forced open, then haphazardly closed.
***
On the floor of the space station’s control room, the shifty and eccentric Johnny Go and his beautiful and psychotic sidekick Dixie Doublestacks were waking up. They were sprawled out side by side, each wearing half of a pantomime horse costume and not much else. An empty bottle of homemade wine sat nearby, along with several empty bags of Funyuns.
Johnny rolled over and pushed himself into a seated position. He looked around, blinking in the semi-lighted room. He reached over and gave Dixie a shove and she grunted as she sat up. They stared at one another.
“Huh,” Johnny said. He raised his arm and scratched his armpit. Dixie groped cautiously along her hairline, as if making sure she still had hair. Satisfied, she nodded and attempted to speak. This sent her into a coughing fit, and only once she coughed up a small diamond, which she spat out onto the floor, was she able to speak.
“I remember that bar.”
“Oh yeah, The Launchpad?”
“Yeah. And I remember drinking the rest of the wine we had in the car.”
“Ok, I don’t remember that, but it makes sense cause one of the bottles is here.” Johnny picked up the empty wine bottle and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. It hit a control panel, which beeped once and then was silent.
“You remember anything after that?” Johnny asked.
“Nuh uh,” Dixie shook her head. “You?”
“Nope!” They high fived and then both made their way unsteadily to their feet.
***
Johnny stood in front of what looked to be the main control center for the space station. He wore the front half of the horse costume, and its head hung pointing down from his waist like a giant schlong. Nearby, Dixie stood staring out a window. She wore the back half of the horse costume, the material barely covering her breasts, and one strap completely unattached. Outside the window there was nothing but darkness visible. She kept staring, and the space station kept rotating, until finally the Earth came into view.
"Ohhhh. It’s that place," she said. Johnny looked over.
"I'll be damned," he said. "So we're on some kind of space station I guess."
"I wonder whose?" Dixie asked, walking over to a small closet and starting to root around inside.
"China's, from the looks of it," Johnny replied, pointing at the controls. "None of this shit is in English." He flicked one of the buttons and a voice responded from somewhere on the station. It was in Chinese but obviously a warning. He flicked a few more switches, and the computer voice had the same response each time. He was about to push a large red button that was probably reserved for emergencies when Dixie called to him from the closet across the room.
“Hey check this out!” Johnny made his way over to find Dixie hauling out a container that was mostly full of bottles of vodka.
“I guess Chinese astronauts are pretty into vodka, huh?” Dixie mused, handing a bottle to Johnny. He cracked it open and took a sip. He sighed.
“Thank god they are, this is fucking fantastic.” He passed the bottle back to Dixie. “Try this.” She took it and drank, then, looking stunned, sat down on the floor.
“Sweet monster grandpa, that is fucking fabulous.” They both sat on the floor and passed the bottle back and forth for a while before eventually falling asleep.
***
The two heroes awoke a few hours later to a somewhat frantic sounding computer voice. As they blinked themselves awake, the voice continued to repeat the same phrase over and over. Climbing to his feet, Johnny Go approached the controls and once again began pressing buttons until finally the voice stopped. While he did this, Dixie went to the closet and took out another bottle of vodka.
“Thank god that stopped. I wonder what it was complaining about?” She asked, passing the bottle to Johnny.
“Who knows.” He took a long drink and passed the bottle back. “It really gave me a craving for Chinese food, though.”
“Yeah!” Dixie exclaimed. “Let’s go get some!” She took another drink.
“You wanna go to actual China? I could get down with some Sichuan.” Johnny took the bottle and drank again.
“Sichuan works. I guess if we’re not even on the Earth, we could technically go anywhere.”
“True.”
“Where were we that time we had the really good dumplings? When we got kicked out because you brought a porcupine in a duffle bag and it got loose in the kitchen?” Dixie reached for the bottle again.
“Oh, that was Vancouver,” Johnny said, smiling. “Remember I bet that waitress she couldn’t fit ten dumplings in her mouth or she’d have to make out with me? And then A.C. climbed behind the bar and drank a bunch of beers while she was distracted?”
“Aw, A.C.” Dixie said, handing Johnny the bottle.
“You know what, though, Dix?” Johnny asked, after taking a huge gulp of vodka. “Authentic Chinese food is great and all, but I think what I’m actually in the mood for is some fucking sugar chicken.”
“Joy Luck Buffet it is, then!” Dixie said. “Now how do we get this thing to fly us to St. Louis?”
***
“Ok, it should be along here somewhere, right?” Dixie and Johnny walked around the outer hallway of the space station, each with a new bottle of vodka. They both looked a little more unsteady than they had moments earlier.
“I mean, we got in here.”
“I figure the ship, or whatever it was that we got here on, is long gone,” Johnny said, peering through the window of a door that looked like it might lead to the outside. “But these things usually have those little transport pods. We just have to find it.”
Johnny stopped at another door. It didn’t have a handle, but it did have a control panel with a lot of buttons labeled in Chinese, and something that looked like an intercom. He started pushing buttons at random. Nothing happened.
“Shouldn’t this be one of those smart houses that you can talk to and order around?” Dixie asked. She reached over and pressed the button under the intercom.
“Space house!” She said as sternly as she could manage, since she had started to slur her words again by this time. “We need to borrow the transport dealie where are the keys?” It was quiet for a moment, and then the computer voice responded in Chinese. Nothing else happened.
“Here, let me try,” Johnny said. He pushed the intercom button. “Space station! Activate the transport pod!” The same pause, followed by the same response from the onboard computer. Dixie and Johnny looked at each other.
“Maybe we have to go back to that other room and ask that computer.”
“Isn’t it the same computer?”
“How would I know?”
***
Back in the main control room, Dixie and Johnny stood at the control desk. They had the remaining vodka bottles lined up along the back of the desk.
“Ok, do we just talk to it?” Dixie asked.
“I don’t know, we’ve been talking this whole time and nothing’s happened. I think we might have to turn it on or something.” Johnny started looking at the buttons on the desk and finally pressed a green one. The same computer voice they heard previously spoke again, and this time some more buttons on the desk lit up. Others started flashing.
“That’s more like it. Computer, prepare the transport pod for launch and set coordinates for St. Louis!”
“Joy Luck Buffet,” Dixie interjected. She turned to Johnny, “I don’t want to end up at that stupid windmill again.”
“Oh, good call.” Johnny leaned into the control desk again and said, “Actually, Computer, if you could set the coordinates to Maplewood, that would be great. MAY-PULL-WO-OD!”
They waited. After a pause, the computer voice said something, and a mechanical whirring sound started under another counter-like structure across the room. A cabinet beneath the counter opened.
“The pod is in here? I hope it’s big enough.” Johnny said, turning. From the open cabinet door rolled a small trash collection droid. It buzzed and beeped its way across the room, stopping before Dixie and Johnny and popping its trash can lid open.
“What the hell is this?” Dixie asked.
“I guess we’re supposed to throw the bottles out before we leave?” Johnny asked, draining the rest of his vodka bottle and putting it in the trash can. Dixie did the same, and they waited. The droid closed its lid, beeped twice, and rolled back toward the cabinet. On the way, it stopped, extended an arm like that of a claw machine, and picked up the empty wine bottle. After placing it in its bin, it rolled back under the counter.
“Ok so…”
“Computer, is the transport pod ready?” Johnny asked. “Where is it?” Nothing happened, so Johnny turned back to the controls and pressed the green button again. For good measure, Dixie pressed as many buttons as she could. The computer began the computer version of yelling.
“What are you yelling about!?” Johnny yelled at the controls.
“Wait a minute,” Dixie said, “I thought you spoke Chinese. Can’t you understand what it’s saying?
“This is Mandarin,” Johnny said, “I only speak Yi.”
“Well shit. How do we get it to shut up and give us the pod?”
“Hey! Computer! Shut up and give us the pod!” Johnny screamed. The voice continued. “I was pretty sure that was gonna work.”
“Well, I’m gonna start in on this next bottle while we think of something.”
***
Dixie and Johnny were passed out on the floor of the control center again. The computer voice was still raging. Dixie rolled over, an empty vodka bottle in her hand, and began swinging wildly with it. She narrowly missed Johnny, who had managed to sit up.
“Computer!” Johnny yelled. “Activate the transport pod!” Nothing happened. Johnny reached for another vodka bottle.
“Why isn’t it doing what we tell it to?” he asked, taking a drink and passing the bottle to Dixie.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should beat up that little trashcan guy until the main guy does what we want?”
“Good idea, Dix!”
With that, they stood up and approached the cabinet that housed the trash collection droid. Without ceremony, they ripped the doors open and dragged the little robot out into the middle of the room. In a scene reminiscent of the beatdown given to the printer in Office Space, the shifty and eccentric Johnny Go and his beautiful and psychotic sidekick Dixie Doublestacks proceeded to brutalize the droid until nothing more than a beeping pile of scrap metal remained.
When they were done, they turned and faced the control desk.
“You see, Computer? You see what happens when we don’t get what we want!?” Johnny kicked the bottom of the control desk. The computer voice was still repeating the same phrase.
“You don’t want to be next, do you Computer?” Dixie asked, leaning over the control desk and running her hand along a row of buttons. “We don’t want to hurt you. But you aren’t leaving us much choice.”
“Ok, Computer. This is your last chance,” Johnny paused, leaning into the control desk and whispering, “Activate the transport pod.”
Nothing.
Dixie and Johnny looked at one another and nodded, then took a step back from the control desk.
Meanwhile...
The large Starliner cruised nearly silently through space. Its entry into the galaxy amounted to only a slight rumble, thanks to the yacht’s massive, state of the art stabilizers. Guests who were, at that moment, sipping their cocktails noticed only an additional clink of their ice cubes and nothing more. Hookers who were, at that moment, sitting in the laps of the gentlemen on board the ship thought that perhaps some of them weren’t as old as they seemed. Only the captain of La Pinna Superiore, attuned to the subtleties of the yacht, noticed the crossing with any degree of certainty. He was on edge, though, given that this particular charter consisted of some of the most infamous mobsters in the universe.
***
In the main lounge room of the yacht, a lavish affair with plush velvet furniture and gold-plated everything, the muscle for bosses Monaco Venditore and Sunny Branzino partied with the prostitutes that had been hired for the day’s entertainment. They flexed their muscles and flittered their gills, trying to impress the women, all human or humanoid, who were always professionally impressed and doing an excellent job of not showing their revulsion to their fish-headed johns. After all, this was the kind of gig that paid well.
A few of the crew stood around the bar, pouring themselves drinks and smoking cigars. In the corner, one guy finally started kissing one of the girls, working his fish-mouth back and forth across her lips, then down her neck. Before long, she led him back toward one of the staterooms. She was a true professional.
To one side of the room in a throne-like seat of honor sat the man himself, Monaco Venditore. Wearing a pinstripe suit with a tie and a flower in the lapel, Venditore was not only the sharpest dressed in the room, he was also the oldest, and one of the most powerful bosses within the Trout Mob organization. For decades he had been controlling the outer reaches of the galaxy with little trouble from the other, more cutthroat, factions of the Mob. Generally speaking, no one had beef with Venditore, and Venditore didn’t have beef with anyone else.
The downside of that, as Sinistra “Sini” Pescelancia explained to his colleague Sal Aringa, is that the territory Venditore controlled was underdeveloped. It was a backwater just begging to be made into the next great destination. Neither Venditore nor any of the guys in his crew seemed interested in putting in the work to turn the marginally profitable territory into a goldmine. But Sini was interested, and figured that just one enterprise in Venditore’s territory could make him rich. He would give Venditore his cut, obviously, but what was left would be more than enough to secure a comfortable retirement. A little place for him and his woman, maybe even a Starliner like this one. But more importantly, it would be enough to get him out of Sunny Branzino’s debt.
While two girls danced seductively in front of Venditore, Sini prepared to approach him and make his request. He rehearsed in his head as he started to cross the room.
“Don Venditore. I am Sinistra Pescelancia, a friend of Sunny’s. It is an honor and privilege to meet you, and to take you out for a day of sailing on this here Starliner. Anything that I can do to make your time more comfortable, please let me know.
“Now, Don Venditore, if I may have another moment of your time, I would like to discuss an opportunity with you. As I’m sure you are aware, you have a number of enterprises within your territory that are being underutilized, but which I feel present an opportunity to earn a tremendous amount of additional income for you and your family. For example, the old Cantina out on Isle Mosey. With an interior renovation and some advertising, it could become a hot spot in your part of the galaxy.
“Don Venditore, I’d like to propose that I be the one to run the Cantina. With the majority of the take going to you and your crew.”
He reached Venditore and took a deep breath, leaning down beside the old man so that the dancing girls couldn’t overhear.
“Don Venditore,” he began. He got no further, because at that moment, Venditore’s underboss, a foul smelling guy named Italikos, appeared at the top of the staircase leading belowdecks.
“Hey Boss, Sunny has requested a moment of your time.” He walked over to Venditore, shoving the dancing girls to the side with a slap on each of their asses, and giving Sini a hard look. He helped Venditore to his feet and escorted him down the stairs. Sini stood helplessly and watched him go. Aringa appeared by Sini’s side and offered him a drink.
“Did you talk to him?” Aringa asked.
“No I didn’t fucking talk to him. As soons I got over here, that fuck Italikos popped up from downstairs. Said fucking Sunny requested an audience.”
“Well come on, Sin, you don’t know what that’s about. Could be anything.” Aringa waved away the dancing girls who approached them in the absence of the big boss just as Sini unleashed a muted explosion on him.
“You fucking know exactly what they’re talking about! What I want to know is how did Sunny find out about the plan for the Cantina!”
“Don’t look at me, Sin. I ain’t said nothing to him.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh huh.”
“What are you trying to say, Sin? That I took your idea? The one that you and me were gonna work on together. I took your idea and told it to Sunny? For what? Why’d I do that? What’s it get me?” Sini said nothing.
“I’m your man, Sin.” Aringa turned and walked away, grabbing one of the girls by the arm as he did, and walking with her to the far side of the room. Sini sat down on a plush lounge chair and sipped his drink, scowling.
***
A short while later, after Sini had finally let his guard down and cozied up with one of the girls, the crew emerged from belowdecks looking triumphant. Italikos climbed up on one of the low lounge room tables and shouted to get everyone’s attention.
“I’m happy to announce that Sunny’s crew, and Don Venditore’s crew, have reached an agreement for the future operation of the Cantina out on Isle Mosey. We hope that this new alliance will be the start of great things for both our crews, and for our little corner of the galaxy.” The room erupted in enthusiastic applause, except for Sini, who merely clapped politely.
“Val!” Italikos called to one of his guys currently manning the bar, “Get out some champagne! This calls for a toast!” The guy behind the bar started pulling champagne bottles out of the fridge, while another guy joined him to look for glasses. In the end, most of the mobsters ended up drinking straight from the bottles, and only the girls and Venditore drank from glasses. Unseen, Sini slipped out of the lounge and into a dining area in the next room.
***
After the toast, someone raised the volume on the music, and the party got into full swing. Aringa left the lounge and went looking for Sini, finding him in the dining area, sitting at the table and staring off through the window and the dark expanse of space.
“Sin,” Aringa said, sitting down next to him. Sini stiffened.
“You did this,” he said, angrily.
“Sini, I don’t know-” Aringa started, but Sini cut him off.
“You fucking told Sunny and he took over this just like he takes over everything and now I’m fucked!” He shouted. “I’m never going to be able to pay Sunny back and I’m never gonna be free!”
“Sin, I didn’t tell him anything!”
“I’m done with you,” Sini told Aringa. “Get out of my sight.”
“Sin-”
“Go to that room at the back of the ship, whatever it’s called, and stay there. I’ll go to the front. I don’t want to see you ever again.” With that, Sini got up and stormed out of the room, toward the bow of the Starliner. Aringa stayed seated for a while before finally getting up and making his way back to the lounge.
***
Sini walked to the bow of the ship, then took the small staircase that led up to the bridge. He entered the room quietly, looking around at the vast array of controls and equipment. The captain, a middle aged humanoid with the purplish skin common in the Araean band, was busy studying an astrological map displayed on a screen. He constantly referred to another screen where he adjusted the coordinates via a keypad, all while keeping an eye on the various gauges and levels required to run the ship. After a moment, Sini cleared his throat and the captain spun around nervously.
“Can I help you, sir?” he asked Sini.
“No, I uh,” Sini took a step toward the captain, “I was just checking out the bridge. Wanted to see all the gear and controls and all.” The captain nodded, but said nothing.
“I used to have a ship,” Sini continued. “A fifty foot Moppie. You know with the twin engines. It was high tech, but nothing like this.”
“The Moppie is a beautiful machine,” the captain replied. “Simple and elegant. An absolute classic.” |
“Tell me about it,” Sini said. “Hadda give it up, though, on accounta some money I owed. But my dream is to get another one day.” Sini walked over to a chair near the control panel and sat down. The captain looked less nervous, but still on guard as Sini continued.
“One day I wanna be able to head down the space port, just me and my woman, get in that ship, and go. You know. Tool around the outer limits for a while. Be off the radar. Free.”
“That sounds like a great way to spend your life,” the captain replied.
“So this ship belong to you? That what you planning on doin’ someday?”
“Oh, no. This ship belongs to the company I work for. They specialize in renting high end yachts for private events and charters. Me, I have a very small Bluestar that I keep, just for fun. It’s big enough for the wife and kids to spend the weekend, but not more than that. And the range is only about ten A Units, so we stay close to home.”
“So you just drive the big boys as your day job, eh?” Sini asked.
“That’s right. Been doing it since I got out of the Force. That’d be close to twenty years ago at this point.” They were quiet for a while, both looking out the large front window of the Starliner.
After a moment, a quiet beeping alerted the captain, who consulted the various displays, did some quick calculations on a keypad, and then adjusted the settings on the controls. Sini looked on with interest.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, just an alert about a nearby installation. We’re about to pass into the orbit field of a planet, and so the ship’s radars check the surrounding area to ensure there are no other craft or installations also in that field. A disruption from something else in the field can cause us to be sucked in by the pull of that planet.”
“That pretty dangerous?” Sini asked.
“Not in a ship like this. It has more than enough engine to power itself out. But it can make for a bumpy ride, which our guests don’t usually prefer. Plus it can sometimes mess with the gravity generators. Knocks ‘em out for a second, you know. Everyone loves it while they’re floating, but they sure hate it when they kick back in and everyone’s on the floor and wearing their drinks.”
“Well, Cap. You lemme know if that’s gonna happen. There’s a couple a guys I’d like to be around when they hit the floor. The bigger they are, y’know?” Sini chuckled and got up, crossing the bridge to the side window.
“That it over there?” Sini pointed to a circular shape out in the distance. The captain looked over.
“Yeah, according to the nav, it’s a research station affiliated with the planet Earth. I sorta remember reading that this was an agricultural test station. They were trying to grow food and stuff in space.”
“Fuckin’ humans. Always behind the shit everyone else is doin’, but then actin’ like they invented it.”
“Too true,” the captain replied.
“Probably a lotta nice equipment on that station, though.”
“Oh yeah. Say what you will about the human race, but when they finally get around to doing something, they don’t go off half cocked.” The captain tapped a screen on his control panel. “Then again, according to the nav, they don’t even have anyone on that station right now. Probably had to swap out their crews due to calcium loss. Typical humans, solving the problem of growing food in space before solving the problem of keeping themselves from deteriorating while they do it.” The captain shook his head, but Sini was now alert, thinking.
“So no one’s on that station?”
“Nope. I’ve seen this before. When they can’t coordinate the handoff from one crew to the next, they just kinda power down the whole station and leave it empty until the new crew gets there. Totally inefficient use of the station’s capabilities.”
“You’re just allowed to leave a space station floating around out there with no one running it?”
“It’s basically anchored in an orbit pattern, so it’ll just stay there indefinitely unless you power up the engines and physically move it. A big asteroid or collision with a ship like this could bump it out, but probably not hard enough to send it floating into space. Plus, it has pretty good sensors that can shift and deflect incoming objects.”
“So if we cruised up to it, it’d shove us out of the way?” Sini asked.
“Only if we approached it at speed, and without syncing our systems with it to notify it that we’re approaching.”
“What do you mean? I thought no one was on it?”
“GGB resolution a few years ago mandated that unmanned installations have to allow emergency docking from passing craft. If our ship was disabled or compromised in some way, we could dock at this station and call for help.”
“Is that right?” Sini mused, turning to the captain. A gleam of crime in his dead, watery eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. Flicking it open, he approached the captain.
Meanwhile…
“Dix, hand me my crowbar.” Johnny held his hand out to Dixie while keeping his eye on the control desk. Dixie looked around.
“We didn’t bring it.”
“Shit,” Johnny replied as he also turned to look around the room. “You have your battle ax?” Dixie patted where her pockets might have been if she wasn’t wearing half of a pantomime horse costume.
“Nope.”
“Well, let’s find something else to beat this thing up with.” They started wandering around the room, halfheartedly looking into cabinets and under counters.
“This sucks,” Dixie muttered. “All we wanted was some sugar chicken. And now we have to beat up a space house AI.” She picked up an empty vodka bottle.
“Will this work?” she asked.
“You’ll get a few good hits with it, I guess,” said Johnny, looking in a cabinet. Seeing nothing but circuitry, he closed the door. He then turned to the small sitting area at the back corner of the room.
“What about those chairs?”
“A little unwieldy,” Dixie replied, “But it should work.” With that, Dixie tucked the empty bottle in her pants and they each picked up a tall skinny chair. They approached the controls, raised the chairs over their heads, and-
BEEP BEEP BEEP
“Hey! I think it’s working!” Johnny exclaimed. Dixie put down her chair and leaned over the controls.
“Yeah, it stopped yelling and started beeping, so it probably wants to help us now.”
“We knew you’d see it our way, computer,” Johnny said, putting his chair down, as well.
“Hey, look at this!” Dixie exclaimed, pointing to a screen that had turned on for the first time. It appeared to be a diagram of the station. On the outer ring, a flashing symbol appeared over one of the larger airlocks.
“The transport pod!” Knocking the chairs over as they went, Dixie and Johnny headed off down the hallway in the direction of the door.
***
As the shifty and eccentric Johnny Go and his beautiful and psychotic sidekick Dixie Doublestacks arrived at the airlock, they could see a huge Starliner yacht through the windows. The ship was slowly making its way to the dock, aligning its own airlock doors with those of the station. It was a slow process, given that the station was constantly rotating and the ship needed to first match its speed.
“Damn! I was expecting some little dingy, but way to go, Space House!” Dixie said excitedly. “We’re livin’ large!”
“Seriously, that’s a huge escape pod. How come we didn’t notice it the first time we came over here?”
“I’unno. We were pretty drunk,” Dixie offered.
“We’re pretty drunk now.”
“True. Bless you, dead spacemen.” They both chugged some vodka and continued to wait while the ship docked.
Eventually there was a small bump and the Starliner connected with the station. A whir of mechanical sounds began and the station automatically initiated the steps needed to create a sealed connection to the ship. Lights flashed. A voice in Chinese issued what seemed to be a warning to step back, but who knows. At least it had stopped screaming. Finally, all was quiet.
“I guess we can just open this door?” Johnny asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. Which is the open button?”
“Uh,” Johnny looked at the panel next to the door, “this one kinda looks like a door.”
“This one looks like a shoe,” Dixie said, pointing to a different button.
“Oh, and this one over here looks like that button you gotta push to get outta the airport in Mexico.”
“Hm.” They both looked stumped.
“Let’s press ‘em all at once?” Dixie suggested.
“Should work. On two.”
“One...” they said in unison, “Two…” But before they could do anything, the door slid open silently, revealing the small airlock room. The two looked at one another, shrugged, and stepped in. The door slid closed behind them.
Across the room was the side of the Starliner, and it’s Sineatmosphaeram door. The space station’s airlock was suctioned to the side of the ship. Before Dixie and Johnny could wonder how to open the door to the ship, it slid open seemingly on its own. In the doorway stood a terrified looking man wearing a captain's uniform.
“Oh sweet,” said Johnny. “It even has a driver!”
“Hello, driver,” Dixie said, taking a step toward him. “We’re heading to the Joy Luck Buffet in St. Louis.”
“Maplewood,” Johnny corrected.
“Right, cause we don’t wanna go to that stupid windmill again.”
But before they could take another step, Sini Pescelante stepped out from the inside of the ship’s door. Seeing Dixie and Johnny, a look of triumph washed over his fishface.
“Well lookit what we have here!” he exclaimed. He stepped in front of the captain, who tried to make himself insignificant by moving to the side. Sal Aringa appeared behind Sini. “The bosses are going to be really pleased to see what we caught in our net. Sal, go get Sunny.” Aringa disappeared, and as Sini glanced over his shoulder after him, Dixie and Johnny attempted to make a break for it. They turned and lunged back to the door. Before they could reach for the control panel, though, they heard the tell tale whiz of a laser pistol warming up. A red dot from the scope landed on Dixie’s cheek and she froze.
“Not so fast, assholes,” Sini said. “You aren’t going anywhere. Lucky for all of us, the whole family is on board today, so we’re going to have us a sit down and decide what to do with you once and for all.” Dixie and Johnny turned around slowly to face Sini again.
“Is this about the pizza rolls?” Johnny asked, slowly raising his hands. “Because we have a perfectly good reason for why we took ‘em.”
“And that reason is?” Sini asked, turning the gun toward Johnny’s chest.
“We needed to feed this goose,” Dixie said. Sini moved the gun back to her.
“Scusami?”
“Yeah, because it wasn’t shitting enough,” Johnny clarified.
“You fucks fed $108,069 worth of frozen, off-brand pizza rolls to a fuckin’ goose?” Dixie and Johnny glanced at each other and shrugged.
“That was a hundred grand worth of rolls?” Johnny asked.
“Didn’t seem like that much,” said Dixie.
“Those rolls were slated to go to a middle school,” Sini said through clenched teeth, “and the money was slated to go ME!” They were all quiet for a moment.
“So,” Johnny ventured, “We’ll… pay you back?”
“Not this time.” As Sini said this, the rest of the two families appeared behind him in a noisy, aggressive crowd. The bosses in the front, and their various grunts behind them until the entire space visible through the ship’s door was filled with grotesque, fish faced mobsters.
“The fuck is this, Sin?” Branzino asked, stepping up next to Sini.
“Well, Sun, I asked the captain here to put us down on this space station, on accounta it’s currently empty and I thought it might be nice for us all to take some of the better equipment back with us, you know. And when we dock, the cap opens the door and what do I see but these two fucks what owe us a significant amount of money.” Branzino looked at Dixie and Johnny critically for a moment.
“These the two that stole our Cheapco take?” he asked.
“The very same, Sun. These shits took over a hundred k wortha food that we had slated for a middle school.”
“That’s a lotta food that some innocent kids didn’t get,” Branzino said, stepping closer. He, too, removed a laser pistol from his pants and powered it up. “Is there a reason that you felt the need to take food from the mouths of those innocent babies?”
“Look, we already told this guy, we needed those pizza rolls to feed to a goose. We didn’t realize how many rolls there were, but we’ll totally pay you back.” Johnny looked back and forth between the two mobsters. Dixie nodded vigorously.
“What if we don’t want you to pay us back?” Branzino asked. “What if- wait a minute.” He stepped even closer to them, studying them intently. Then he called over his shoulder to one of his men.
“Val! Get in here!” The same blob of a man who had been behind the bar earlier muscled his way to the door.
“Boss?” he asked.
“Val, ain’t these the jamooks that stole my Benz?” Val looked closer at Dixie and Johnny, as well, scratching his fish head as he did so.
“You know, boss. I think you’re right.”
“Then it looks like you two own us more than just the pizza roll money you took from Sini, huh?”
“Another fifty k, boss,” Val added.
“Shut up, Val.” Before Sunny could continue, some angry gesturing caught the eyes of the group and they turned to see Venditore speaking softly into Italikos’s ear holes. Italikos nodded, then addressed Dixie and Johnny.
“Don Venditore understands the need to repay the debt these two grifers owe to our family, however they have committed a larger transgression that will have to be dealt with.” Everyone turned to look at Italikos and Venditore. Italikos continued.
“Last year at the Camogli Festival, Don Venditore’s granddaughter was deflowered by some outsiders. She is young and impressionable, and these animals took advantage of that and seduced her.” Dixie looked at Johnny out of the corner of her eye.
“How do these guys know about that?” Johnny whispered. But Italikos continued, answering this question.
“The young girl’s… condition… became apparent on her wedding night last month and she confessed. It has caused Don Venditore and our family much shame.”
“Look,” Johnny said, “I get that you’re upset, but I really don’t see how you can pin the shredding of the membrane on anyone in particular when an orgy is involved. The blood is really on all our hands-” At that moment, Venditore let out a roar that caused everyone around him to shudder. Italikos again leaned in and Venditore whispered something to him.
“Sunny, Sini. We know that you wanted to recoup your losses from these two, but Don Venditore is unwilling to let them live long enough to repay their debt. We propose killing them now, and then harvesting anything of value from them and from this space station. As a token of our deep appreciation for allowing us to exact this justice, we propose splitting anything gained from this station sixty-forty, with the majority going to you and yours. Do you find that acceptable?” Sunny, Sini, and all their men bowed their heads in reverence.
“Don Venditore, we accept this decision and the solution you have proposed. We are honored that you have considered us and our plight.” Sunny looked up at Venditore, who nodded again to Italikos.
“Don Venditore would also be willing to allow you to partake in some pre-killing torture of these animals.” A slimy smile spread on the fish faces of all the men.
“Thank you, Don Venditore.” That settled, Sunny turned to his guys.
“Val, Big Gup, take our guys with you and go through the station. Take anything that isn’t nailed down. And if it’s nailed down, pry it up.” Sunny’s guys immediately stepped into the airlock and made for the door. They pushed the large button that looked like the customs control button at the airport in Mexico, and the door slid open. They stepped through, splitting up with half heading left and half heading right.
“I knew it was the Mexican airport button!” Johnny whispered.
“Tony, Tuna,” Italikos said turning to two of his biggest guys, “grab these shits and take them into the lounge. The rest of you, follow Sunny’s guys and bring back anything you can. We’ll figure out if it’s valuable later.”
As the two goons stepped forward, Dixie went with the only option she had and pulled the empty vodka bottle out of her horse costume pants and in an instant, heaved it with all her might across the room. It connected directly with the elderly fishface of Monaco Venditore, knocking him back a step and causing him to let out a sharp howl of pain.
In the split second after the bottle hit Venditore, everyone left in the doorway of the ship turned to assess the well being of the old man. As they did, Dixie and Johnny used the opportunity to punch the button and flee.
***
They tore down the hallway of the station. Johnny was forced to hold the pantomime horse head as he ran, to keep it from bumping into his knees.
“What do we do!?” he yelled as they rounded a turn.
“I don’t know, but we’re gonna need weapons and a place to hide,” Dixie replied.
“And we have to find that fucking escape pod!” They continued running for another moment, until Dixie suddenly skidded to a stop, her costume hoof feet sliding on the shiny space station floor. She yanked open an interior door.
“Johnny! Here!” she called. Johnny Go turned and ran back toward her.
“Dix I don’t think they park the escape pod in the middle of the station,” he said as he trotted back. He stopped beside Dixie at the door and stared. The room was completely full of equipment that resembled computer servers but also looked like a metal Lego city.
“Is this, like, the main computer dealie?” Dixie asked.
“I don’t know, but it looks like there’s lots of long metal pieces that we could use to give these fuckers a beatdown if we needed.” They both immediately pulled off some of the long, pole shaped pieces. As they did so, the computer voice cried out in pain. Dixie and Johnny paused.
“I think we hurt it,” Dixie said.
“Yeah, well, if it didn’t want to get its guts ripped out, it would have ponied up the escape pod when it had the chance.” With a final tug, Johnny ripped loose a metal pipe. He stepped back and wielded it as a sword for a few moments, thrashing it back and forth, hitting some of the equipment in the room as he did so. After his next pass, a large outer panel fell to the floor. Johnny stopped and picked it up.
“Hey, maybe we should make some shields and armor and shit,” he suggested.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Then we can really fight these creeps.” They set about tearing off as many loose parts of the station’s computer server room as they could and fashioning them into various pieces of protective gear. After an hour, they were completely covered in ‘armor’.
“You look like a robot,” Dixie told Johnny.
“Oh yeah? That’s probably good because I don’t know if I can fight with all this shit on. I think maybe disguising ourselves as droids and sneaking through the station might be a better idea at this point.”
“Ok, let’s try it,” Dixie said, ripping a circular piece off of the server and placing it on her head. As she did, the computer yelped. She rolled her eyes.
“Someone has a problem with our costumes, I guess.”
“Beas, misto,” a computer voice said, “part are zeed for tontrol zhan.” Dixie and Johnny stopped in their tracks.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dixie said.
“NOW you fucking speak English!?” Johnny demanded of the machine. “We could have been on our way to get some goddamn sugar chicken HOURS ago and missed these fish fucks all together.” He kicked the computer sharply and it let out another yelp.
“Well?” Dixie demanded, “Are you going to tell us where this escape pod thing is? We kinda need to get out of here before these mobsters murder us.”
“Yunshu no todect to power. Lianjie power.”
“What?”
“Lianjie power.”
“Yeah, we don’t know what that means, but why don’t you just tell us where it is in the station and we can-”
“Shhhh!” Dixie said, motioning for Johnny to stop talking. She crept toward the door of the server room and from outside, the voices of some of the Trout Mob grunts could be heard. They sounded like they were dragging something large along the hallway.
“This fuckin’ thing weighs a ton,” Big Gup complained, “It better be worth somethin’ good.”
“It’s some kinda energy converter. It takes the fuel in the station and makes it power that all these computers and shit can use.”
“Doesn’t the station need that to, like, keep flying?”
“Who fuckin’ cares? We’ll be outta here before it runs outta juice.” They passed the door, not noticing that it was ajar. Dixie and Johnny waited a moment, then turned to one another.
“Ok, since this piece of this station won’t tell us where the pod is, it’s back to Plan A of going to look for it. You ready?” Dixie nodded, then slowly peered out of the server room door. The coast was clear. She waved to Johnny and they left the room as quietly as they could, computer parts clanging softly as they went.
***
“Johnny,” Dixie said as they clanked down the hallway in their gear, “I really wish we had the rest of that vodka.”
“Me too. Should we swing by the control room and grab it before we start looking for the pod?”
“Absolutely. We’re gonna need something to do on the flight to St. Louis.”
***
A short while later, Dixie and Johnny entered the station’s main control room. It was clear that the Trout Mob guys had already been there and taken quite a few things, including the remaining bottles of vodka that had been lined up on the desk.
“Shit, they took the vodka.”
“Lemme check the closet, maybe there were some bottles in there that I missed the first time.” Dixie staggered to the closet and wedged herself inside as best she could, crouching over and pulling things off a deep bottom shelf. Nothing appeared to be vodka. Johnny started searching in some of the other cabinets. He opened one cabinet that contained an extension of the onboard computer, and startled it.
“Oh! Misto!” the computer said.
“You again,” Johnny replied, feeling around behind the computer. “Look, if there’s any booze in this cabinet, let me know. Otherwise, I really don’t give a shit about you unless you’re gonna get us to the pod.”
“Misto, pod no todect to power! Yu ren take todecto and now start die.”
“Well like I said before, we’re gonna start die unless we get off this station before the mob guys find us. So help or shut up.” Johnny moved on to the next cabinet. “Find anything, Dix?”
“No, just some old board games. Oooh, Jumanji!”
“Orthodox or Reform?” Before Dixie could answer, a Trout Mob goon burst into the room. Dixie and Johnny froze.
“Ey! What the fuck is this!?” He demanded.
“BEEEEEEP!” Johnny said with his mouth, stiffening up into his best robot impression. “Misto time chlean. Big mess.” He pretended to be wiping the counter. The goon slowly walked toward him.
“What the fuck, the cleaning droids are on auto?” He said, more to himself. “Listen, computer buddy, I don’t know how ta tell ya this, but there’s really no point in cleaning up. We’re, uh, gonna strip this thing for all we can and set it adrift.” He stood directly behind Johnny.
“Geez, the joints on your outer casing are really good quality. Is that silicon? It almost looks like skin.” Just as he was reaching out to touch Johnny’s shoulder through a crack in his metal panels, Dixie, who had crept out from the closet, brought her metal pole down on the goon’s fish head with a crash. He crumpled to the floor. For good measure, she clubbed him six more times, until brain matter started to show. She was about to shove the pole up his ass (her signature move) when two more goons entered. They stopped dead in their tracks for a split second to take in the scene, and then quickly drew their laser pistols.
“Not shoot, misto! Robots!” Johnny cried. But the goon powered up his laser and fired, narrowly missing Dixie as she dove for cover behind the body of the dead mobster. The laser hit the control desk of the ship, shorting out a few of the lights. A small fire started. The second goon raised his laser and fired at Johnny, who ducked. The beam hit the computer module in the cabinet behind him. The computer wailed.
“No! Beas! I only tontol zhan!” The two mob goons looked at each other, shocked that the station’s computer was talking. In that moment of distraction, Dixie and Johnny jumped up and made it to the door. The two goons fired again, hitting another cabinet of equipment. The computer let out another wail. Emergency sirens began to sound. The goons followed Dixie and Johnny out of the room.
***
Dixie and Johnny ran frantically through the station, looking for anything that would help them, whether it be more weapons, a place to hide, or an escape pod. The goons were close behind them, but due to the curved shape of the station, were always just out of sight. Dixie and Johnny thought they might make it until they rounded the next bend and ran smack into another pair of Trout Mob thugs.
These two thugs immediately drew their weapons and fired. Dixie and Johnny hit the deck, and the lasers sailed cleanly into the goons who’d been behind them. Those goons, whose lasers had also been drawn and primed to fire, had fired the moment they caught sight of Dixie and Johnny, effectively hitting only their pals. All four went down and Dixie and Johnny grabbed two laser pistols each and ran off again.
The sirens continued.
***
Up ahead at the next junction, Dixie and Johnny could see more Trout Mob guys gutting a massive engine system and loading the parts onto a cart with wheels. The station’s computer now sounded like it was sobbing, but could barely be heard over the continued emergency sirens. Pausing a short distance away, Dixie aimed her laser pistol and fired, hitting one of the goons in the side of his head. His fish head sliced neatly in two and he fell face first onto the floor.
It took the other guys a moment to register what had happened, and to notice Dixie and Johnny. They raised their laser pistols and aimed. However, as unlikely as it seemed, our two gunslingers were quicker to the drawn. Dixie’s shot hit the one guy in the throat, leaving his head attached by a small strand of sinew. Johnny’s shot hit his guy in the arm, causing him to fire off a wild shot that hit the equipment in the engine room. Dixie finished the man off, but the final blow of the laser was too much for the station.
Smoke began to pour from the engine room and the entire station began to shake. The computer voice, through sobs, began to initiate its termination protocol.
“Engine fail-or tritical. Orbit remain thirty per cent frong. Fifteen minutes and re ease.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I think this whole station is going to crash.”
“Crash where? We’re in space.”
“I don’t know, but we should probably try to hitch a ride on that liner. Grab all the guns you can, we’ll just murder anyone who isn’t the captain.”
“But we haven’t slept with any of them.”
“It’ll still be self defense.”
***
When they arrived back at the airlock leading to the Starliner, the scene was even more chaotic than the engine room. Panicked mobsters were frantically trying to shove all the stolen equipment into the door of the yacht. Sirens wailed, and a confetti-like fire retardant fell from the ceiling. The captain, beside himself with fear, tried to herd everyone onto the ship.
“Everyone, I’m going to have to ask you to just leave whatever you have and get on the ship. We only have a few minutes left before the engines, anchors, and all critical sensors fail. This station is going to get pulled out of orbit by the Earth’s gravity and crash through the atmosphere. There’s no way to tell if the emergency thrusters are going to engage, so at best, it’ll burn up on entry.” Sini appeared at the doorway. He locked eyes with Dixie and Johnny.
“Burn up on entry, eh?”
“If you’re lucky,” the captain said, pulling one of the goons through the door and tossing a smoldering piece of computer equipment back into the airlock room. “It might make it and fall to the ground instead. If we don’t disconnect the ship, we’ll be nothing more than rubble.”
“Works for me,” Sini said. He pulled his lone remaining man through the door, then used a long piece of metal to close the airlock door just as Dixie and Johnny attempted to enter. Through the small window in the door, he grinned a foul, fishy grin.
“Ci vediamo all'inferno, assholes.” He turned and stepped back on board the ship. The captain closed the door and the Starliner began the process to disengage from the station.
A few moments later it was gone, and Dixie and Johnny were alone on the dying space station.
***
“What do we do now?”
“I’unno. I guess we’re gonna die.”
“Wanna go check again for more vodka?”
“Might as well.”
***
Inside the control room, Dixie and Johnny sprawled on the floor. The station rattled and shook around them as sirens continued. The lights went out.
“You ever wonder why mummies all have curses?” Dixie asked. “Why don’t any other dead bodies have curses?”
“Yeah, good question. Are Egyptians the only people who ever thought it would be a good idea to leave curses for grave robbers? Everyone else was just cool with it?”
“We better try to leave a curse on all our stuff right now, before we die.”
“Good idea. Ok, anyone who touches any of my stuff in the ranch house will get a pig rash, and not be able to eat corn anymore.”
“And anyone who touches my first edition Arnold Frankenheimer books will shit themselves any time they take a train.” Dixie said, laughing.
“And also, anyone who bangs that waitress I like at the restaurant will get stalked by a computer.”
“Good one.” Suddenly, the station’s computer voice spoke up.
“Misto, momost at atmospeer. Want to slow down avoid fire?”
“Uh, yeah, computer. If that’s something you can manage at this point, sure. We’d love to not burn to death.”
“Sank you, Misto. Erry sorry no teering but try slow and land.”
“Whatever.”
***
Moments later, the station used its last reserves of power to attempt to slow its descent. It entered the Earth’s atmosphere at an alarming speed. Outer pieces of the station tore off as it flew through the air, but it ultimately remained intact. Once within the atmosphere, gravity took over and it fell toward the Earth. The station attempted to slow it’s fall, but succeeded only in reducing the speed slightly. In a last ditch effort, the station released a pitiful parachute-type of thing, which didn’t slow the descent, but did change the station’s direction. There was no changing the inevitable. They were going to crash.
***
It was a beautiful autumn day in Paris, warm, but not hot, as if summer had rushed back in after having forgotten its keys. It was a peaceful day. Pickpockets and scam artists were at a minimum, and so tourists felt safe to mill about the Champ de Mars, staring in awe at the Eiffel Tower, taking photos of each other, and bribing their children to behave so that they could just have a good vacation for once.
Suddenly there was a loud screech, similar to a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier. It shook the very ground they picnicked upon. Everyone looked around, scanning the blue cloudless sky for the source.
And then they saw it. An object hurtling toward them at an alarming speed, flames and smoke and pieces of metal trailing in its wake. It appeared to be headed right at them. A few people stood up.
Soon the object was close enough to be identified, and all of the tourists could tell that it was a space station. More people stood up, and a few started to pack up their picnics. A teenager used this distraction to swipe a bottle of wine from a nearby picnic blanket. He chugged it behind a tree and immediately vomited.
Then, in a flash, it was all over. The station zoomed low over their heads, heading straight for the Eiffel Tower. It passed just over the top, and caught the very tip in one of the inner spaces of the circular station.
Ringing the Eiffel Tower like a horseshoe on a stake, the space station finally came to a stop. Throughout the park, people screamed and fled in all directions. Sirens could be heard approaching from all corners of the city, but for a moment it was just a space station in an empty, iconic park.
No one was around when, a short while later, two figures crawled their way out of a broken window on the space station and climbed down the Eiffel Tower to the ground. They walked slowly away.
***
Dixie and Johnny walked until they were in the middle of the Pont d'Iéna, then they stopped and looked back at the chaos they had caused.
“Man!” Johnny exclaimed. “That’s gotta be worth, like, a million points!”
Indeed, God’s scorecard went up by one million points.
