“Fine. You want a broken flight screen and a fistful of wires? You got it.”
He let go of the cables and turned to Manuel in a huff.
“Update on Charlie, please.”
“Miss Anderson used the frequency to call home. I’m afraid if they had attempted to make contact, we would have missed it.”
“Why did you let her make the call?”
“She threatened to scratch my eyes out and make love to the sockets—”
“—Hump them, actually,” Jelly corrected him.
“That’s right. She threatened to remove my eyes and hump the—”
“—You don’t even have eyes, you dummy,” Tripp spat, about ready to explode with anger, “Manuel, you can’t let Anderson tell you what to do. She’s not in charge—”
“—Pardon my forwardness, Tripp. But didn’t you just cave in to her demands seconds ago?”
Tripp watched Manuel indicate the battered screen. He knew the book was right. His dignity begged to differ. An ill-advised retort formed in two seconds and flew out of Tripp’s mouth before his brain had a chance to give it the green light.
“That’s not the point.”
“Miew—” Jelly acted the sweet, innocent pet.
“You shut up, too,” Tripp kicked the communications panel in anger, “You’ve been nothing but trouble since you came back from that… thing.”
“What thing?”
“After you disappeared on Pink Symphony and went swimming,” Tripp yelled. “You’ve changed, you know that? Nothing but a spoiled little brat. The others are scared of you, now. You’re walking all over them. But not me, Anderson. I’m not scared of you.”
He stopped screaming and caught his breath. The pause allowed the reality of the situation to flood his mind.
“God damn it, I’m trying to talk sense into a cat,” he muttered. “We must have died. I’m in purgatory, that’s the only explanation. I’m an Androgyne. A robot telling off a household cat who’s turned into a woman.”
“Miew…” Jelly whimpered, apologetically. No English spoken, but the tone said it all. She felt sorry for him.
“What are you saying now?”
“I’m sorry, Tripp.”
“Really?”
She shook her head and wagged her tail, “No. Not really. But I know you humans like to be told sorry.”
“I should have figured,” Tripp sighed and pressed his hands against the comms panel, “Jelly?”
“Yes, human?”
“Don’t make judgments like that until you have all the facts,” he blurted, mourning his entire existence, “Do me a favor?”
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t want to,” She licked her lips and yawned in his face.
“I admire your honesty,” he muttered just loud enough to for her to hear.
“I’ve never lied in my entire life,” Jelly dug her tongue into the crook in her gums, “I don’t even know how to lie. I know you humans do, though. I’ve seen it with my own eyeballs.”
“With your own eyes, Jelly.”
“All of them, yes.”
“Okay, you won’t apologize. I get it. You’re a cat. You don’t give a rat’s ass—”
“—I can catch a rat and give you its ass as a trophy—”
“—No, no,” Tripp gave up the ghost and turned to Manuel, “That’s not what I—It’s a turn of phrase. Means you don’t care.”
Jelly didn’t feel the need to respond. Tripp, once again, was spot on with his assessment – and she wasn’t going to correct him. She genuinely didn’t give a rat’s ass about his feelings.
“And to be quite honest I’m starting to know how you feel.”
“Miew,” she offered, politely.
“Stop talking,” Tripp cleared and prepared himself for action. Work needed doing, feelings be damned. He snapped his fingers at Manuel.
“Jaycee is at Weapons and Armory. Wool’s at Medix, and Bonnie’s checking out Botanix. Can we try to establish comms with Charlie once again, please? Provide something of a salutation for their arrival?”
“Certainly, Tripp.”
Jelly rose out of her chair, “I need the bathroom.”
“Yes, go and get ready. There’s a good girl,” Tripp lifted the keyboard and hit the return key, “Manuel, I’m going to my quarters to get ready. I’ve advised the others to do the same. In the meantime, commence connection to Opera Charlie on a frequency of zero, four five, niner—”
SPRIIIIISHHH…
Tripp turned around, slowly, hoping the sound coming from the corner of the control deck wasn’t what he feared it would be.
No such luck.
Jelly crouched in the corner and relieved herself all over the floor. He couldn’t help but sneer and lament the fate of the universe.
“Really?”
Jelly shrugged and continued her business with a ‘when you gotta go, you gotta go,’ look on her furry adult face.
“Unbelievable,” Tripp shook his head in dismay and walked out.
CHAPTER TEN
A low hum crept around the chamber. It dispelled an otherwise perfect silence. The lights snapped on, illuminating the circular quarters.
Three hyper-sleep pods fanned out like a star from the central feeding column.
The first of the three pods shimmied to life. The screen blanketing its occupier slid into its housing.
WHIZ-WHIR.
A pair of eyebulbs blinked, “Captain?” Its squeaky voice woke Oxade from his slumber.
He opened his eyes and immediately squeezed them shut, shifting his body around the pod’s foam interior, “Oh, God. My head.”
“It’ll take some time to get oriented.”
Oxade pressed his elbows onto the fabric and lifted the top half of his body upright. Poz Bass, one half of the death drone duo, spun his head around three-hundred-and-sixty-degrees.
“Welcome to the vicinity of Enceladus.”
“Are we there?”
“Yes, five-hundred-and-forty-five days of sleep,” Poz extended his rope-like arm and bopped thumped the glass case on Nutrene’s pod. She didn’t react, “Manuel-2 asked us to wake you up for debriefing ahead of the others.”
“Okay.”
Oxade threw his legs over the side of the pod and placed his bare feet on the ground. Poz forgot that his captain was only wearing a pair of briefs He looked away in shame.
“Hey, it’s okay, Poz. We’re all guys together,” Oxade stood to his feet and gripped the oxygen tube attached to his pod. His balance was all over the place, “This is going to take some getting used to.”
“I respect your modesty, Oxade,” Poz trundled over to Alex’s pod and pressed his ‘nose’ – which resembled more a mini ventilation shaft – against the screen, “Look at him. Fast asleep.”
“What did you and Neg do to pass the time?” Oxade ran his fingertips over his five o’clock shadow as he stared in the mirror.
“We played chess for a while,” Poz chirped. “I won, of course.”
“Of course,” Oxade cleared his throat and opened the slider next to the mirror. His enhanced leather USARIC mercenary jacket floated inside, “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Men are much better at games than women, aren’t they?”
Oxade threw his arms into the jacket sleeves. The five letters in his name lit up on the outer part of his upper right arm, “Well, technically, you and Neg are both sexes,” he said as he reached into his pockets.