"Wait here."
Then he moved behind a nearby desk, sat down,
yawned, and began to shuffle through a layer of papers.
And Richard waited.
And waited.
A hand on the clock over his head desk ticked
loudly every minute. Pens skidded over papers and papers shuffled
over dingy desks. A few times the door squeaked open and slammed
shut. Richard just kept his eyes on the clock.
And he waited.
And waited.
The door slammed.
Richard looked over. A guy with faded pink
hair and ripped jeans standing by the door looked back. He looked
vaguely familiar. He casually reached into his pockets and pulled
out what looked like one of Earth's phone, but there was something
more familiar about it...
The guide!
Richard stared at the pink-haired guy with
the alien technology. The pink-haired guy looked back and smiled
faintly. Then he walked over to the nearest desk and talked softly
to the officer who had arrested Richard.
"...settlement... no... they should have
called... okay... yeah, yeah..."
The officer got up, grabbed Richard's arm
once more, pulled him to his feet and unlocked the cuffs.
"Go." He shoved Richard towards the door.
"What?"
"Supplier's not pressing charges. Get outta
here."
"Um..."
"Out!" The officer glared.
"C'mon," the pink haired guy said. "It's
okay." He held the door open.
Richard walked through it, away from the
officer now shaking his head and muttering under his breath.
"
Thief.
"
Then the door slammed, and they were out of
the police station. The quiet light of dawn was spread over the
parking lot, but it didn't do anything to cheer Richard, who
shivered in the cool morning air.
**********
On the edge of the parking lot, the
pink-haired guy stopped. He sat down on the curb. One hand absently
played with the tatters at the bottom of one jean leg.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yes." Richard plopped down next to him on
the cold curb. "How'd you do that?"
"I paid the... fine."
"What?"
"Paid the fine. I called the suppliers. Medz
– they're the ones who've got the cops chasing everyone down. They
won't press charges if you pay up for the damages plus fines."
"What damages?"
The pink haired guy shrugged. "I..." He
snorted and flicked his hands up for a minute in a helpless gesture
then went back to playing with the frayed edges of the jeans. He
shook his head. "I don't know."
Richard nodded. "How much?"
"Five thousand."
He gaped. "Five
thousand?
I don't
have–"
"It's ok. I traded for credit before I got
here." He looked up at Richard with a sympathetic half-smile. "Why?
Didn't you?"
"Um... no,"
Idiot.
He cursed himself
again, thinking of his ill-thought out joy ride. "We didn't um,
plan too well."
The pink haired guy smiled. "It's okay. No
one ever does."
"But..." Richard shook his head. "Five
thousand
? Why?" The incomprehensible number circled around
in his head, and fatigue made it even harder to even begin to
understand. "Five
thousand
?"
Again, the guy shrugged. "It's how it
is."
"But they told me the license or whatever was
five hundred. The-the guy at the pharmacy..." he trailed off,
rubbing his head – it was starting to ache.
"Yeah, but if you try to take it, if you try
to take it and share it – they want more."
Richard shook his head. It didn't make any
sense and he was too tired and worried to try to make sense out of
it. "How did you know?" he asked.
"Word travels." He didn't elaborate.
Richard didn't know what to say so he stared
at the pavement. Eventually, he would have to go back to the ship
empty handed and hope Grimm was still holding on.
"So what happened?" the pink-haired guy
asked.
"We had a little... uh, accident - it's not
important - I don't know... My friend got a bit cut up in the
landing. We need supplies. More bandages mostly. Some other
stuff..." he shook his head hopelessly.
"And you don't have the plans for them?"
"Yeah... we didn't really come prepared,"
Richard admitted.
The pink haired guy smiled. Richard could see
the understanding in his face. Travelers this far out rarely came
prepared.
"Can't you just download them?"
"There's nothing on Earth's networks. And I
can't get a signal from anywhere else. Not in this part of the
galaxy. Can you?"
"Huh. No. I mean, I'm not connected anymore.
Not to anything off-Earth."
Damn you back-to-nature types.
Richard
tried to relax the grimace off his face. He just managed a polite,
"Uh huh."
"Here, I can get you something."
"I thought you said–"
"I'm not connected back home. I can still get
on the Earth's net."
Richard shook his head. "But it's been
scrubbed - there's nothing useful."
"Only on the public sites.... we might still
find..." the guy scrolled through his alien device "...something
useful... there."
"What?"
"Got it." He stuck a familiar looking piece
of plastic into the guide.
"Got wha–"
"Medical kit." A second later he was handing
Richard the little piece of plastic. "Wait, you have power to print
this?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Power's hard to get on this planet."
Richard barely heard him. He clutched the
storage device in one fist. In his other hand the guide already
shone with a map, a friendly "You Are Here", and a path back to the
ship. He looked up at the pink haired guy.
"Thank–"
"Go on." The guy smiled.
"Thank you!"
**********
Richard ran.
He ran back through the city streets, back
past the H signs, back through the outskirts of civilization, back
through the dark fields past the road and power line strung above
it and the lamps, now dark in the morning light. A stalk stabbed
his foot and his ankle twisted over, but he kept running.
Finally, finally he was back at the ship.
He ripped the door open and nearly fell over
Grimm in the hallway.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Hey." Richard righted himself and fumbled
over to the ship's computer, slowly charging in the corner.
"Hey yourself," Grimm answered. "Where'd you
go?"
"Um, out to get stuff." He jammed the memory
stick into the computer and poked frantically at the screen.
Finally, Richard stepped back from the
computer, sank into a chair, took a breath and took a look at his
friend. The now-crusty blood drips on his leg hair were mixed with
drips of pus.
Infected.
Grimm laughed. "Looks good, huh?"
Richard tried to make his face look less
shocked. "It looks... fine." He grit his teeth and turned back to
the ship's computer.
The printer next to the computer was starting
to make soft whirring sounds. Something clunked. The thing vibrated
ever so slightly. A moment later, a thick, white strip of gauze
started to wend its way out of the printer onto the waiting tray,
neatly coiling on itself. It was followed by a tiny plastic bottle,
then drops of antiseptic.
"The pain killers'll be out soon. And..." he
looked back at the screen and over the list of things in the med
kit. "And then something to help you sleep."
And then I can
finally make some new fucking pants!
Author
Blythe,
Aelius
: (1987–)
North American scribe,
timid, nomadic. Female of the species
H.
sapiens.
Also wrote:
Stories About Things
Ask
World
CEASA