Space Chase (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 10) Page 5

  "Yes." Thad smiled, though in truth, he was not. In fact, he desperately wanted a drink. Something about Gina's presence combined with his possible impending execution just set his nerves on edge.

  "Can I get you anything?" The girl inquired.

  "Vodka and tonic with a squeeze of lime."

  "No! No!" Gina cried, looking up from her tablet. "Nothing for us," she snapped at the girl, and then, wagged her finger at Thad. "No falling off the wagon. I'm here to keep you on board. Why don't you sleep or watch the in-flight movie?"

  Thad sighed and turned his back again.

  "Go to sleep," he muttered. "I can't do that. I can never sleep on planes. Frankly, I hate space travel, and I always have. Fine. I'll watch the movie."

  Thad turned on his tiny seatback vid and selected the Flick of the Day. It was something about a Luminerian woman who was dating a Bagmagian man. They both thought the other was a Cascadian on account of their lies and disguises.

  "Oh, I saw that." Gina leaned over the small divide, so close that Thad could feel her breath. "Just wait until you get to the bedroom scene. It's sicker than any of ours. In fact, he even makes you look good, which let me tell you, is hard to do."

  Gina laughed and punched Thad in the arm, which didn't help to improve his mood. Instead, he shut off the movie and tried to sleep. That only lasted about a minute or two, for just as Thad lay his head on the tiny pillow, the spaceplane made the most incredible, horrible noise.

  There was a thump and a screech, followed by yelling in the cabin, most of which was coming from Gina. Reaching over, Gina grabbed Thad's arm.

  "Oh my God, Thad! Are we going to die?"

  "We can only hope so," Thad remarked, while wracking his brain.

  As the retired president of SdK, he knew only a little bit about these planes. Most of the time, they were fairly indestructible. Their safety record was the best around. However, the engines were subcontracted out, and their quality wasn't always under SdK's control.

  Thad glanced out the window at the port side power plant which just so happened to be shooting out flames.

  "Yep," he conceded. “There is definitely a failure in progress, and the engine looks like it’s about to explode.”

  Reaching into his carry-on bag, Thad found his bottle of Xanax, as well as the Prozac. Swallowing both pills dry, he leaned back in his seat and considered there were worse ways to go.

  Fortunately for Thad, or perhaps, unfortunately, the pilot announced a quick detour.

  "We're right outside Spacebase 41-B. We'll be docking in about ten minutes. As soon as we have the status on our repair, all passengers will be advised. Please sit back and enjoy the rest of the flight, and thank you for traveling on Rozarian Spacelines today."

  Thad carried his bag off the plane and into the busy terminal, his stomach growling with both relief and hunger.

  "Let's get something to eat," Gina declared, walking by his side as if the two were traveling together.

  "Alright," Thad agreed, although he didn't know why, as he could barely tolerate his ex-wife.

  However, he was in a surprisingly chipper mood, having just escaped death, or perhaps, it was due to the double dose of anti-psychotic drugs. Maybe, Thad had been wrong about this whole event, and Ron had no intention to end his life. Just because Berkan was dead, didn't mean Thad was next.

  After all, Thad had never schemed against the Emperor. Thad did, however, disgrace the company a few times. He was also thrown in jail once or twice. He had been a womanizer with multiple extra-marital affairs. There was no argument that Thad was a genuine loser. Still, unlike Berkan, who had plotted against the realm, Thad was a disgrace, but always loyal one.

  Thad and Gina made their way to the Cowboy Corral, a franchise restaurant with four thousand locations throughout the galaxy. They ordered a plate of wings, two Wrangler Burgers and fries with New York style cheesecake for dessert.

  "This is kind of nice," Thad admitted, his belly feeling full, the drugs still doing wonders in his brain.

  "It is," Gina agreed, keeping a watchful eye on Thad. If he attempted to ditch her, she'd immediately pull out her gun.

  While waiting for the check and wondering who would pay for what, several announcements were made over the spacebase's loud speaker. All arriving spaceplanes were grounded due to a massive dust storm, which was lingering outside in this sector. All passengers were advised to stay the night in a hotel. A voucher for the Radisson or Holiday Inn could be acquired at the Passenger Help Desk.

  "Bummer," Thad groaned and pushed the check to Gina's side. "No rush to get out of here now, I suppose."

  "That's fine," Gina replied, pushing the check back over to Thad. That bastard ought to be able to afford her burger and fries.

  The check went back and forth a few times more until they agreed upon who would pay for what. At this point, the Duke and Duchess bolted out, neither one remembering to leave a tip.

  Gina was feeling pretty good. A large slice of cheesecake could do that to her. In the way that alcohol used to numb her brain, now carbs or chocolate had the same affect. As she gazed at Thad, she momentarily forgot that she despised him. In fact, the more Gina looked at him, the more she wanted to have some fun. A night in a spacebase hotel might not be a bad idea.

  "Are you interested in getting a room together?" Gina asked, lowering her voice in that way that used to turn Thad on.

  Thad, never one to turn an opportunity down, even if it was with his ex-wife, agreed right away, no strings attached.

  "No strings attached," Gina repeated, clutching her purse as they collected their vouchers and headed over to the Holiday Inn hotel. Thad anticipated the king sized bed and hoped it might have one of those vibrating things, while Gina looked forward to a lovely space view.

  As they walked across the crowded lobby of the hotel, Thad chided himself for stressing about his imminent demise. Ron was far too busy to be concerned with Thad's transgressions. Surely, he wasn't interested in punishing Thad.

  Furthermore, what was any of it to Ron anyway? Just because Ron was the Emperor, it didn't mean he was God or anybody else. In fact, as far a moral compass went, Ron's own internal gyro tended to spin.

  Thad found himself getting a little cocky and way too self-assured. In fact, he strutted like a peacock, as they whisked up the lift to their room. Once there, Thad suggested they have a little drink.

  "Just a teensy, tiny shot of something strong."

  "Thad," Gina warned, while at the same time, she had to admit, she was getting a wee bit thirsty too. One of those itsy, bitsy bottles in the hotel room fridge would be just enough as it was hardly more than a sip. In fact, if they each had one shot, the evening would be a lot more fun. Their flabby, aged bodies would start to look good. All the parts that were non-performing could use a little 'pick me up' and what harm would just one tiny drop do? That wagon wasn't so tall that they couldn't climb right back in after just this teeny tiny little one. The friends of Bill W. would never know if they didn't tell them.

  Thad took the scotch, while Gina took the gin. After that, everything that Thad said sounded a whole lot funnier. Gina's hair looked much silkier, and her face had a lot less lines. When they shared three tiny bottles of the vodka, Thad's bald spot went away.

  By the time, the dust storm was raging full force outside, when the space wind roared and the spacebase rocked back and forth, Thad and Gina were so well soused, the station could have exploded, and they wouldn't even have noticed. Certainly, they never saw the Imperial Spaceplane as it arrived.

  Chapter 7

  Rent had to ask his supervisor for the time off without pay as he wasn't yet due any vacation.

  "Next week?" His boss had snapped. "You couldn't give more notice than this? How long do you plan to be gone anyway?"

  "I don't know." Rent shrugged, and scratched the back of his head which was a nervous response whenever he was forced into a confrontation. "I guess it's up to my mom and dad. It might be a while, may
be a month or two. Mom says Dad really needs a break, and she wants us all to be there and bond. Do you think, I could telecommute and work from home? I could login every day, even the weekends."

  "Home?"

  "Well, it's my parents'…um…it's their…um…summer house on Rozari." Rent began to mumble these last few words.

  "Summer house on Rozari?" The supervisor yelled. "You go on vacation, and you'll have to go find yourself another job. Idiotic, spoiled, rich kid with a summer house on Rozari."

  The supervisor tore up Rent's vacation request. He dropped it like leaves upon the floor which left Rent wondering how to explain all this to his mother.

  "What should I do?" Rent asked his brother later. They were sitting in a pizza parlor, Chunk of Cheese, drinking a pitcher of Coke and eating a platter of hot wings. Sara was playing Pac-Man on a machine while the Princes waited for their extra-large, bacon and pepperoni pie.

  "Dude," Steve replied. "You're an Imperial Prince. You don't need anyone's permission to go on vacation."

  "I know that." Rent blushed and used his finger to draw a squiggle through the condensation on his mug. He made it round, like someone's head, and then, he drew straight hair and a pair of large glasses. It occurred to him his cartoon looked like the woman who shared his cube. "My boss doesn't know about that. Nobody at work knows who I am. I don’t want them to find out. I'd hate for them to make a fuss. I just want to be a normal person, not a prince."

  "Dude," Steve reiterated, pouring himself another glass of soda. He only slightly regretted that it wasn't a pitcher of beer. Steve had been sober and clean for two years plus and counting. In fact, he counted it every day, every hour and sometimes down to the minute. Steve had vowed never again to let alcohol ruin his life, and he was determined to follow through with his word this time. "Dad owns the company as well as the whole fucking Empire, but I understand you wanting to be incognito. Why don't I give Jimmy Mattson a call? The dude is cool, and he's the one in charge. Not only will you keep your job, I'll get you promoted a few ranks while I'm at it. You'll be your boss's boss's boss by the time you return."

  "I don't know," Rent mumbled, shaking his head. "Maybe, I should stay here and work instead. I probably shouldn't go on the trip. I'll just tell Mom I couldn't get the time off."

  "Wrong answer, baby bro." Steve lit a cigarette. A man could only deny himself so much. Tobacco was still his vice along with fornication. With only these two activities, presumably, he wouldn’t end up on the bathroom floor with his head cracked open and bleeding out his brains. "Katie says you go and go you will. You don't want Dad to come after you because you ruined Mom's big plans."

  Rent stared at his brother with horror. The idea of their father coming after him would traumatize Rent for weeks. He'd wake up every night drenched in sweat.

  Although, Rent had been part of this family for more than two years, he would have rather hidden in a closet than be called into his father's presence. Sunday dinner was simply terrifying, as Katie insisted everyone be seated at the table.

  Inevitably, as Rent sat there next to his niece and brother, he couldn't swallow, couldn't chew, and couldn't speak. If asked a question by the Big Man, Rent choked and coughed on his words. The best he could do was stutter, stumble, and spit while nodding his head.

  Despite everything his mother did to ease Rent's discomfort and fear, Rent was scared to death of what his father might do to him. The Emperor was frightening just to look at, and his temper was always on a short fuse. His patience for Rent lasted no longer than three minutes.

  Steve laughed at his brother's anxiety while the giant pizza was set before them on the table.

  "You need to chill about Dad, dude." Steve took a slice. "I'm here to tell you, he's been through everything with me and look, I'm alive and still causing trouble."

  Rent gazed at his brother and noted the scar on the side of his head, as well as the one on the back of his wrist. Steve had also replaced three front teeth, and his spine was fused together by a titanium pin. All these injuries occurred during Steve's last drunken binge which had happened right before Rent arrived. The whisperings had said it was their dad who had taken Steve out before banishing him off to a far corner of the galaxy.

  "Come on, Sara." Steve turned and called over to the arcade. "It's time to eat. Get a piece before Uncle Rent finishes it all up."

  "In a minute," Sara yelled back, intent upon her game, which required wild pounding on the joystick.

  Steve wondered if he should demand she quit. Although, he was her father, her existence had been a complete surprise. In fact, he barely recalled her mother and the event which brought Sara to this world. Now, here he was supposed to be raising the little chick. As a father, he supposed he ought to provide some sort of discipline and structure in her life, although he didn't want terrorize her like his dad.

  "Do you think I should make her come sit down?" Steve asked Rent while stubbing out his cigarette on the linoleum table top.

  "I don't know." Rent shrugged and bit into his pizza.

  "I don't know either," Steven considered, and almost rang his mom to get her opinion on the appropriate course of action. Ultimately, Steve and Rent decided to finish the pizza themselves rather than risk Sara throwing a tantrum in the arcade.

  Afterward, when the pizza was long gone, and the pitcher of Coke was empty, Sara lost her game and demanded something to eat.

  "How about if I buy you an ice cream sundae," Steve suggested before his daughter launched into a screaming hissy fit. The idea of ice cream perked her up and diffused a potential explosion which made Steve think that he had this fathering business down pat.

  When Rent arrived in his cubical the following morning and sat down in his very own chair to begin his work, his supervisor appeared and handed him a signed and approved vacation request.

  "Rent Golden," his said, his voice a bit perturbed. "There's something weird about you and I'm not sure what it is."

  "I look like that guy on the vid who hosts that game? You know, the one that takes place on the island where they vote to throw each other off?"

  Rent's boss narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

  "I don't know how you did it," he grumbled, "but you've got permission to work at home. Let me tell you, you had better be productive 24/7. I expect you online doing your job, and I don't care what time it is in Rozari. If I IM you, you had better immediately respond."

  "I will." Rent nodded emphatically. "I promise. I'll be online all day and night."

  "I've got my eye on you, Golden," his supervisor continued. "I don't care if Jim Mattson is your brother's best friend. You mess up, and I'll see you out on your ass."

  Rent wasn't certain if he was happy or sad. Now, for sure he was stuck going on vacation with the family.

  "What's the matter?" Trudy, his cube-mate asked, when Rent was staring forlornly at his screen.

  For a while now, Trudy had been looking for a reason to strike up a conversation. Trudy had admired Rent from afar, even though her desk was on the adjacent wall. She was a shy and nerdy girl who never imagined a guy as good looking and as smart as Rent would ever be interested in someone as dull as her. Trudy thought Rent looked just like the Imperial Princes, although she wasn't certain which one he favored more.

  Rent spun in his chair and gazed at Trudy, whose green eyes were magnified five times by her enormous glasses. She had ordinary straight brown hair and unremarkable Mishnese features which was why after five months in the same cube, he had never noticed her.

  Now that he did, he considered she wasn't half bad. In fact, her nose was splattered with freckles and kind of cute. She was free of blemishes and blotches, and her fingernails were unpainted and chewed. In fact, unlike his ex-wife Alyssa, she wasn't wearing makeup at all.

  "What?" Rent asked, having already forgotten Trudy's question.

  "I said, is something wrong?" She repeated, her face turning pink.

  "My family," Rent started to explain because he
really wanted to get this off his chest. Other than his brother, there was no one in the entire galaxy who he could tell. However, he couldn't blow his cover by admitting the truth. So instead, Rent looked at his watch and decided it was time for a non-smoking break. "Want to come outside?" Rent stood, pushing in his chair, and surprising Trudy with this simple invitation. Immediately, she jumped up and tagged along.

  As it turned out, Trudy also enjoyed staring in the factory door at the planes that were still being assembled. They had a wonderful time together doing this, although they had hardly spoken a word, so Rent invited Trudy to the cafeteria when it came to lunch.

  After work, he walked her to her bus. The next day, they went for coffee and shared a whoopie pie. The following, Rent took Trudy to dinner at a local Taco Shack.

  By the fourth day, over pizza at the Chunk of Cheese, Rent wanted to invite Trudy home. This, however, would be incredibly hard to do. He'd have to explain why he lived in the Big House of the Palace, four doors down from the Emperor's suite.

  Despite wracking his brain for a plausible explanation, Rent couldn't come up with a good lie. He considered leasing a flat in Old Mishnah. He could pretend that was where he lived. Then, they could sit on the couch, eat popcorn and watch movies on the vid. Maybe, he would do this when he got back from Rozari. He'd just have to stall Trudy until then.

  "You don't want to meet my family," he insisted. "At least, not just yet."

  "But, I'd like to meet your family," Trudy cried, holding Rent's hand while the chunk of cheese congealed on the pizza tray. Trudy wanted to know everything there ever was to know about Rent.

  "No, you don't," Rent replied, picking at the chunk. Although, he wasn't hungry, he couldn't let good cheese go to waste. "My father has a severe multiple personality disorder. It's scary. Very scary. You don't want to see it. Trust me. It's really bad."

  "What's that like?" Trudy inquired, her chin propped in the palm of her hand, her big green eyes blinking innocently at Rent.