The Forgotten Planet

Adan and I spent the next few days properly installing Betty into the Pendragon’s (yes, I did name her after King Arthur’s surname) systems and subjected the internal power lines to multiple tests to ensure that they wouldn’t blow out critical systems the first time we tried to use her. While we did that, Philip’s engineering crew fabricated three emitters to my specifications and installed them in equidistant points along the hull of the ship. Once linked up to Betty, they would channel the energies that would tear a hole in spacetime big enough to slip our sleek new ship through.

The Pendragon was the single most exquisite piece of equipment that I’d ever seen, let alone worked with. And now I was her owner – well, one of five, I guess. That part was never clearly spelled out. Regardless, she was a definite upgrade from the jalopy we had been tooling around in just a short time ago.

The insides of the Pendragon were all shiny, bright and clean. It had an old-fashioned nautical feel, with polished wooden rails and brass fixtures – mixed with modern plassteel construction and ThoughScreen electronics. The chairs and couches that were built into the floor were trimmed in the same polished wood, and the leather seating surfaces were embossed with brass buttons. This was real leather too, formerly of some unnamed animal, rather than that synthetic crap that sticks to bare skin. The material was supple and smelled like wealth. The lighting was a soft yellow and the walls were a pleasant grey-blue hue.

Little cleaner bots scurried and rolled about vacuuming and scrubbing the floors and walls, working from one end of the ship to the other in an unending cycle. The nicest part of that was that we no longer had to worry about stepping in one of Poochy’s steaming surprises. Also, it didn’t smell like mildew and improperly aged cheese like the last ship.

It was late morning three days after the office dust-up, and I was next to Adan as he welded Betty’s housing panels back into place. Her integration into the Pendragon’s hardware was now seamless, and everything appeared to be operating normally. I’d also replaced many of Betty’s cast-off parts with certified mechanisms. Only Clown’s former parts remained untouched – for obvious sentimental reasons – and the T-11 missile casing, just because I thought it looked retro and quirky. Now, all that remained was to try and open an actual wormhole.

Since I was only there to micromanage bro, I noticed Maxine when she stopped in the doorway to watch Adan work. I doubt she even saw me standing there. It was only when Adan looked up at me and began to follow my eyes to the doorway that she turned and left the room.

I had enough on my plate without worrying about Adan’s love life, but he was my brother, and I couldn’t help but care. Plus, I was curious about how they went from knocking boots to glacial in the blink of an eye. I knew Philip was involved somehow, but I knew it started with the argument in the shuttle.

“What’s up with you two?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“You know women,” Adan answered, a pained look on his face.

“I really don’t,” I answered honestly. He smiled.

“Well, it’s like this, broheim. She wanted to know what my intentions were.” His voice went higher in an impersonation that sounded nothing like Max. “Was this a committed relationship? Was this going somewhere?” He made air quotes around the pertinent words as he spoke in the ridiculous voice. “I told her what I always tell ’em – that I’m not looking for anything serious.”

I sighed and shook my head and wondered how most men and women were able to get past all the mind games and propagate the species. “What’s her middle name?” I asked.

“Jean,” he answered. “Why?”

“What do her parents do?”

“They passed away when she was young. I don’t get-”

“Does she like blue?”

“Yes Galen,” he said with exasperation. “Why?”

“Well, you never bother with girl’s middle names or family history. So, you must actually like her. And you’ve been wearing a different blue shirt every day this week.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at me and smiled sadly. “I may have blown this one brozilla. I don’t know what to do. She seems to really be into Philip.”

“Yeah, but he’s an ass,” I answered honestly.

“Who’s an ass?” Vee asked. She’d come in unnoticed. My little blue ninja-cat.

“You ever thought about putting a bell on her?” Adan asked. I was smart enough not to answer that I in fact had.

“Do you like to scratch yourself while you eat bananas?” Vee replied.

“I do actually,” he answered, seemingly unoffended. “We’re talking about Philip.”

“Yeah, he’s totally an ass.” Vee said.

“So why is Maxine so into him?” Adan asked.

Vee looked at Adan like he was crazy. “I thought you knew she was just trying to make you jealous.”

Adan looked skeptical. “Did she tell you this?”

“No, but it’s obvious, isn’t it?” She looked at us both with an exaggerated look of pity. “Poor, dumb boys. At least you’re both pretty.”

Then she smacked my butt.

“Hey,” I said with mock indignation. “Watch the merchandise.”

“That’s my merchandise Tiger, and trust me, I’m watching it.” She took a long look at my backside, then flashed us the peace sign and walked away.

I looked at Adan, who was shaking his head.

“How did you...” he said, gesturing at Vee as she left the room.

I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

“You think she’s right about Max?”

“Sure, probably,” I answered, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt.

“Should I try and get her back?”

“Do you want Max back because you like her and you miss her, or because she’s blowing you off and that’s hurting your ego?”

He looked at me blankly for a few moments – a sure sign the internal wheels were slowly turning. Finally, he said, “I should probably figure that out.”

I nodded. “Yep.”

While Adan went off to make up his mind, I ran through the MachineSpace® of Pendragon’s OS for about the fifth time. Everything appeared to be in order. The AI answered to me and there didn’t appear to be any backdoors or hidden data packets. She seemed to be our ship free and clear. Maybe I was just having trust issues.

Speaking of trust issues... I was on better terms with Russell now that I understood his reasons for not being upfront about his deal with Philip. Russ was right that we needed a new ship and that I would be hesitant to part with the plans for a portable wormhole generator (there’s only one Betty). Since the gunpoint-meeting, we’d talked friendly, ate meals at the same table, and collaborated on our upcoming operation. That’s not the same as trusting though. I just hoped whatever long-game Russ was playing wasn’t at our expense.

Maxine was complicated to say the least, but I didn’t get the feel that she was playing us. I’d run enough scams that I’d like to think I have a decent read on people and their intensions. I just hoped that Adan’s ham-fisted treatment of her didn’t break up the band – although if it did, I had no intention giving up Pendragon. Max and Russ were welcome to keep the jalopy if a divorce ever became final.

...

“I think you’re sitting in my seat, Phil,” I heard my brother say. I spun in my chair and saw Philip in the captain’s chair and looking right at home.

Our fractured little group, along with David, Philip and a handful of their engineers, scientists, and computer geeks (I use that term lovingly), were on Pendragon preparing for Betty’s first official test. The bridge of the ship was big enough to comfortably fit all of us physically – but perhaps not big enough for the assorted egos and competing priorities.

There were chairs and consoles in the nose for the pilot and co-pilot. The captain’s chair overlooked both of those, with multiple engineering workstations to the captains right and left. Behind the captain’s chair were additional stations for communications and weapons systems. I was sitting at a repurposed engineering station that now ran Betty’s systems, while Maxine sat in the forward pilot’s seat. Outside of that, there was no assigned seating, which apparently was an issue.

“Don’t you think this seat’s a bit above your station?” Philip mused. He swirled the ice around in his hi-ball glass before taking a sip of his whiskey. I think it was the smirk that made me react.

“Hey, he’s part owner of this boat Phil, or have you forgotten?” I asked.

I heard David guffaw, and Vee giggled behind her hand. Philip got really still, and for a tense few seconds I thought I’d inserted myself squarely in the middle of a potentially explosive domestic dispute.

“Come and help me fly this pretty girl Philip,” Maxine said before fixing Adan with an acidic glare.

Anger’s better than indifference, I guess. Philip rose from the contested chair and gave Adan a wink before sliding in next to Max. The look on Adan’s face when he realized he could have sat next to Max in the co-pilot seat just about broke my heart. He plopped down into the vacated captain’s chair looking miserable. After that, everyone else was able to find a seat without arguments or fisticuffs.

This wasn’t normal Adan behavior. He changed girls more often than underwear. Yes, I mean that statement literally. For some reason, Maxine was throwing him for a loop. Vee and I shared a look and she winked at me and showed me her teeth in a playful growl. At least Veesil and I weren’t crazy. Eccentric perhaps, but not crazy.

“We’re clear of the station,” Max called back to no one in particular. “Am I parking her here, or do you have some coordinates for me?”

“Why don’t we take Pendragon a few parsecs away from the station?” David asked. “Just in case we open up a singularly.”

Philip swung around in his seat and asked, “Say what now? I though this test was safe.” I knew there was zero chance of that happening, but I kept that piece of trivia to myself and watched the blood slowly drain from his face.

“I’m sure you agree Philip,” David answered, “that we shouldn’t expect our people to take risks that we aren’t willing to take ourselves.”

“No, of course,” Philip sputtered. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Bullshit,” Adan said, hiding it poorly behind an obviously fake sneeze.

“Well, hold on to your assess people,” Max called over her shoulder. “I’m gonna see what this girl’s made of.”

She redlined the antimatter sublight engines and whooped loudly as she put Pendragon through a corkscrew and a few tight loops as she increased our distance from the station. I did notice Max looked back at Adan with a look of joy on her face after a particularly gnarly maneuver and not over at Phil. I also laughed out loud when half of Philip’s drink ended up on his pants.

Once we were a few light-minutes away from the station, David said, “Maxine, I think we’re at a safe enough distance.” As the ship crawled to a stop, David turned to me and said, “Galen, if you’ll please do the honors?”

Betty’s indicators were all glowing green, but I found myself hesitant to fire her up. My stomach was suddenly on the verge of losing its contents – and not just because of Maxine’s impromptu maneuvers. Before this was just a ridiculous pipe dream with no chance of success. Now I was standing on the precipice, and I couldn’t take the next step.

Then Vee was standing behind me, her hands around my waist and her lips millimeters from my right ear. “Come on Tiger,” she whispered. “Let’s dazzle these folks.”

I took a deep breath and said, “Here goes nothing.” The overhead lights didn’t dim and there weren’t any explosive electrical surges. Indicator lights changing color were the only way to tell that Betty was active and drawing power. Turns out all I needed was certified materials and a second-generation antimatter engine to power them. Beams shot out and converged a hundred meters in front of the ship and opened up into the briefest view of a little blue house, blue skies, green grass and a gnarled, brown oak. Gasps filled the cabin, and I smiled and shivered as I felt Vee’s teeth gently bite my earlobe.