The Tau Ceti Transmutation (Amazon) (12 page)

In my distressed state, I didn’t question her decision making. I took off in the general direction she’d indicated while irate bees and overzealous apple trees slapped and stung and grabbed at me with equal verve.

There,
said Paige.

I dove, expecting a splash.

I got a thump. Thick mud that reeked of decay and tasted like the inside of a boot sprayed into my mouth as my forearms and face made contact with the ditch floor. Bees hummed above me, granting me a temporary reprieve from their stinging as they paused to laugh at my asinine belly flop into the mostly dry creek bed.

Sorry about that,
said Paige.
The satellite images must’ve been out of date. But this could still work. Try smearing that mud over yourself. The bees seem to dislike the odor.

I wanted to make a remark about how they weren’t the only ones, but I followed Paige’s advice, rolling around in the rancid, foul-smelling paste and smearing it across my face and forearms. As I did so, a mechanical sound interrupted the buzz of the bees—liquid spraying through a nozzle. I felt a cool mist settle over my neck, and the buzzing subsided.

I looked up. Standing at the lip of the ditch, next to Carl of all people, was a pony-tailed hippie, holding a backpack-mounted sprayer. A clear liquid dripped from the tip of the nozzle.

I offered a salutation. “Um…hi?”

The pony-tailed one raised an eyebrow and frowned.

I gulped.

13

I sat in a primitive sweat lodge, a squat, dark, hovel of a building slapped together out of sticks and dirt and hippie spit. Steam from a rock pit curled around my bare toes. It mixed with smoke from burning embers and licked the soles of my feet before running along my legs and diving under the towel wrapped loosely around my waist. Sweat dripped from my brow, falling in heavy drops onto my bare chest. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with moist, sticky air.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked.

Carl sat across from me, similarly clad in nothing but a rough, white towel. “I’ve never understood the appeal of saunas, to be honest. Then again, I don’t sweat, so perhaps there’s a sensory experience associated with them I’m missing.”

“You didn’t have to join me,” I said.
“Your
clothes weren’t covered in mud.”

Carl leaned forward and grasped a small cup. He dipped it into a bucket and poured the contents over the hot stones, letting loose another cloud of steam. “I know.”

The motive for his choice to accompany me into the dark, sweat hovel remained unspoken, but I knew the reason. “Carl?”

“Yes?” he said.

“Thanks.”

He nodded. He knew what I meant, too.

As it turned out, Carl had been right. The long-haired, unBrained hippies hadn’t been involved in human trafficking. Rather, they’d been hosting a wedding—a wedding I’d so unceremoniously crashed. Instead of a cruel restraint, the colorful ribbons I’d noticed tied around everyone’s wrists were part of a community hand-fasting ceremony for the young couple undergoing their nuptials.

The ceremony had progressed to about the halfway point when they noticed my yelps and heard me crashing through the orchard like a blind buffalo. Carl, having never suspected the hippies were involved in any for-profit kidnapping schemes, went to the camp for help. There, he managed to find the community beekeeper who doused me with aerosolized bee pheromones—essentially catnip for the little black and yellow pollination machines.

Despite the beekeeper’s frown and the fact that I’d trespassed on their property, angered their bees, damaged a number of apple trees, and ruined a wedding, the hippies turned out to be quite the friendly bunch. Instead of stringing me up by my thumbs, they’d gone out of their way to offer me assistance. They hosed me and my mud-caked clothes off, gave me a sticky, homebrewed cream they claimed was a remedy for bee stings, and, while my duds dried on their primitive but effective clothing lines, they ushered me and my naked bottom into one of their sweat lodges.

I took another deep breath of the hot steam and smoke mixture and my brain reeled momentarily. I started to wonder how hot it was inside the lodge and if such an experience might be dangerous, but I didn’t have long to ponder. As sweat poured down my chest, a heavy, canvas flap leading to the outside peeled open. A tall, weather-beaten man with dreadlocks and a bushy beard admitted himself, a towel draped around his midsection. He settled himself across from Carl and I, our spread legs forming an invisible and yet wholly unsettling equilateral triangle.

“Nice little hut, isn’t is?” the man said.

I nodded. “Hot, but nice. Yeah.”

“The steam’s good for those stings, too,” he said.

I glanced at one of the bumps on my arms. I thought ice might be a better countermeasure to the stings than heat, but I wasn’t about to say so. “Are you Gerrold Stein, by any chance?”

The man nodded. “Heard you wanted to talk to me. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“Are you kidding?” I leaned forward. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I feel like a complete fool. When I spotted your ceremony with the ribbons…well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Let’s just say my imagination got the best of me. I didn’t mean to crash your festivities. Honest. And then the bees came after me, and—”

“Relax, friend,” said Gerrold. “It’s alright. We’re a pretty easy going bunch.”

I slumped and settled my back against the wall. “Yeah, I suppose you must be. But really, I’d be happy to pay you back for any damages.”

“No need,” he said. “Pay it forward to someone else in need. Although, there is one thing I require from you.”

“Name it,” I said.

“I could use a name, friend.”

“Oh. Right. I’m Rich. Rich Weed. This is Carl.”

Carl nodded.

Gerrold raised an eyebrow. “Weed, eh? As in related to
the
Weed family?”

“The ones who founded the ganja fields north of Pylon Alpha back in the day? Yeah.”

Gerrold tipped his head. “Well, then, I guess I owe
you
thanks, friend. Welcome, both of you.”

I didn’t have to inquire what he meant by the first part. One look at his dreads spoke volumes about his preferred pastimes, but I was curious about the last part. I shared a look with Carl.

Gerrold noticed the shared glance. “I’m not sure what you may have heard about us, here, but we don’t have it out for droids. As a matter of fact, we have no objection to them whatsoever.”

“Is that so?” I asked.

Gerrold clasped his hands in his lap before him. His towel sagged under the weight of his grasp, stretching the towel and revealing an uncomfortable amount of leg. “We choose to live simply here, Rich. We don’t begrudge those who choose otherwise, so long as they afford us the same luxury of choice.”

That seemed a noble philosophy, one that required a thoughtful response, but my brain felt muffled, as if it was slowly being packed with cotton, so I responded with all the wit I could muster. “Hmm. Ok.”

Gerrold stretched his arms to the sides, resting them on a lip at chest height. “So…”

“So, indeed,” I said.

Gerrold chuckled. “I meant, I assume you’re here for a reason. Care to share?”

“Ah, right,” I said. “Well, believe it or not, Carl and I are private investigators.”

“We have a license and everything,” Carl said.

I chuckled. “That we do. And as it turns out, we recently accepted a case from a new client. Valerie Meeks.”

Gerrold put a hand up to stroke his beard. “Ah. Well, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

“We understand she was your girlfriend.”

“Sort of,” said Stein. “We were close. But I haven’t seen her in about three months.”

“Do you mind if we ask what happened?” said Carl.

“No. Not at all.” Gerrold tugged at some loose beard hairs. “Although, let’s see…how should I put this? I suppose she left because she couldn’t find what she was looking for.”

I must’ve looked befuddled, because Gerrold took pity on me and explained himself. “As I said, we live a simple life here. As difficult as it may be for you to believe, that appeals to a lot of people, especially those who’ve spent the majority of their lives in the hustle and bustle of the city. It’s not uncommon for strays, even those well into their two hundreds, to search us out. Most only stay for a few days, or perhaps a week. We let them. That’s fine. It’s part of their journey. Others stay permanently, becoming brothers and sisters. Then…there are those like Valerie.

“When Valerie came to us, she seemed lost, as so many others do. But she had a good heart. I liked her. I’m not sure if we could be considered a couple, but we cared for each other. I taught her about our ways, our lifestyle. She expressed a great interest in our system of Tao Chi.”

“I think you mean Tai Chi,” said Carl.

“No, Tao Chi,” said Gerrold. “It’s a comprehensive belief system combining the focus on physical fitness and emotional wellbeing of Tai Chi with the teachings of Taoism. Valerie was particularly interested in the latter. She and I had many powerful discussions over the nature of
qi
—how it affects our corporeal bodies, how it governs our thoughts and emotions, how it manifests during rebirth. We even discussed topics I hadn’t given much thought to, such as the
qi
of the artificially created. People such as your friend Carl, here.”

“Excuse me?” said Carl.

“It’s something I hadn’t considered before,” said Gerrold to my pal. “Do androids have a
qi
? How does it manifest? Given my background, I had to defer to Valerie on her thoughts on the matter. I simply don’t have much experience with your kind.”

The heat must’ve been getting to me. Gerrold’s idealistic, pseudo-religious arguments almost made sense. Almost. “Taoism, rebirth,
qi
. Got it. So what drove you and Valerie apart?”

Gerrold shrugged. “Not sure. Like I said, perhaps she didn’t find the answers she sought in our teachings.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Carl.

“She started discussing other philosophies with me before she left,” said Gerrold. “Buddhism, confucianism, candomblé. Plus all kinds of others. Weird ones I’d never heard of.”

“Weirder than yours?” I snickered uncontrollably at my own humor, even though it didn’t seem particularly funny.

Gerrold’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Did Valerie mention Veesnu by any chance?” asked Carl.

“She did,” said Gerrold.

“Ah. So…” The words sounded loud in my own ears, and they felt momentous. Important. I couldn’t put my finger on why, though. Possibly due to the acoustics of the sweat lodge.

Carl glanced at me before turning back to Gerrold. “Have you seen Valerie since she left those few months ago?”

Gerrold shook his head.

“Any chance you’ve been to the city recently?” asked Carl.

“Nope. Haven’t left this camp in years. Don’t have any reason or desire to.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of a place called Keelok’s Funporium?”

Gerrold shook his head again. “Say…Valerie’s ok, isn’t she?”

“She’s fine,” said Carl. “She had a break-in at her place, that’s all.”

My tongue moved through molasses as I licked my lips, which felt inordinately dry despite the omnipresent steam. I laughed for some reason. “Hehe. Funporium…”

Carl turned to me. “Are you doing ok?”

“Me? I’m fine, dude. But could you tone it down? You’re being extremely loud.”

“I’m speaking at a normal volume.” Carl glanced at Gerrold. “Do you use wood to heat this rock pit?”

I chuckled again. “Hehe.
Wood.”

“Yes. A mixture,” said the dreadlock-laden naturalist. “Apple and mango from the orchards. Some mesquite. But we add a dash of something special to make the sweat lodge experience more relaxing. I was sure your friend would enjoy it once I heard about his family pedigree.”

“You hotboxed the hut?” said Carl.

My droid pal was on fire. Nothing but zingers. “Hehe. Box.”

“Wonderful.” Carl shook his head in disbelief. “Can you help me get him dressed?”

“Sure,” said Gerrold. “I suppose it’s my fault for not warning you.”

“Guys, I can walk,” I said. “My legs are fine. They’re just HUGE.”

I looked down. Strangely enough, they were.

Gerrold and Carl helped me to my feet. We stumbled toward the door, and I wondered where in the world my clothes had gone.

Gremlins. Must’ve been gremlins,
I thought.

From behind a fluffy cloud, Paige laughed at me. Or with me. I wasn’t sure.

14

I popped a couple Buzzkill™ brand sobriety pills into my mouth as I swiped the pack across the pharmacy counter scanner. I followed it across the scanner’s black maw with a tub of extra-strength antihistamine gel.

The counter squawked at me as I tried to finalize the order. “Would you like to add a tube of Benzitol to your order? Rated number one in customer satisfaction for burns, rashes, and bites. Or perhaps a pack of virility enhancers?”

I frowned and wondered what exactly the damn counter knew about me. “No. Paige, could you pay this dang thing and make it shut up?”

My Brain fairy silently obliged. I took my things and left.

On the sidewalk outside the pharmacy, I cracked open the tub of soothing gel and slathered a layer over my neck and arms. My skin prickled in response, but in a good way—the equivalent of eating ice cream for my sense of touch.

“Ah…that’s better,” I said.

Carl stood next to me, grinning. “So apparently copious amounts of sweating, mild smoke inhalation, and a tetrahydrocannabinol high aren’t good remedies for bee stings.”

I didn’t take the smile as a slight. I knew Carl better than that. He was just glad I’d survived our harrowing trip to the country with nothing more than a few bumps and a headache—one that was rapidly disappearing thanks to the pills.

“Not so much,” I said. “Although they’re the perfect recipe for a wicked one-two punch of dry mouth and belly riots. I feel like I could eat an entire bison and guzzle roughly its same weight in water. Come on. Let’s get some chow.”