Walter Stickle and the Galactic Rangers, page 20
“That’s where the getaway ship is, honey.”
“Then, why don’t you just beam us to Pitville?”
“Can’t take the chance. Your communicator is offline. We could beam ourselves right into the hoosegow.”
“Oh, right. I’m going to have fun explaining that to the insurance company.”
The three of them and the big, slobbering dog piled into Millie’s truck. She cranked up the radio, the one that only got two stations — country and western — and they left the Pine Barrens in the pouring rain. The drive gave Walter time to think about things: his normal world and how it had been turned upside down, the aliens whose lives depended on him and the aliens who were only following the law, and Vivien Benoit who had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.
It was late and had stopped raining when Millie pulled into the parking lot outside Lenny’s apartment. They said good-bye to the old man and Rusty, and she and Walter walked down to the lake. While Walter watched the ducks sleeping on the water, Millie used Vivien’s glasses to pinpoint her location on the scout ship.
“All right, Walter, here’s the plan,” she said. “I’ve set the trans-beamer to send you to Vivy’s coordinates. They’ve got her in a holding cell on deck two.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m too old for this,” she said. “Truth is, I’d only get in the way. That’s why the plan won’t work without you. Once you’re back, we’ll fetch the ship and get out of Dodge.”
“How do we get back?”
“Press this, then this, these two, then this, this, and this,” she showed him. “Got it?”
“Oh boy. Can you show me that again?”
“Don’t worry about it. You beam up, give Vivy the potato, and she’ll beam the two of you back down. Easy peasy.”
“Okay, I guess.”
“I’ve set it to translate Argonian for you in case something goes wrong. Just keep it close by.”
“Wrong? What do you mean, ‘wrong?’”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”
“Where’s your ship?” asked Walter.
“Parked in the mud on the bottom of this bathtub,” Millie said. “Seemed like as good a place as any for it when Vivy got back from her last trip. The beamer is also a remote pilot. Vivy will bring the ship up, we’ll hop onboard, life will go back to normal, and you’ll never see Millie Varger or Vivien Benoit again.”
“What about me?”
“You’ll be fine. If they come after you, just remind Gak of Congress of Planets Article 13.04 and he’ll let you go.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“I want to go with you.”
“I thought you were all set to face the music on Monday?”
“I’ve been thinking about it, about a lot of things. Maybe turning your friends in isn’t the right thing to do. Maybe they deserve a second chance. Maybe I don’t want a normal life anymore.”
“That’s a lot of maybes.”
“I want to go with you, Millie. Please.”
“Walter, it’s not like we’re going to France. This is your home. Your family is here. Your roots are here. If you leave now, you’ll never see them again.”
“I know that, but don’t you see? This is what I’ve always dreamed of. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, and it’s the only chance I’m going to get. I want to go into outer space. I want to explore new worlds, discover new life and new civilizations.”
“This isn’t Star Trek, Walter. We’re not boldly going anywhere. We’re running away. We’re fugitives, remember? If they catch us, they’ll kill us.”
“I don’t care. I want to go with you.”
“I’m sorry. You can’t.”
“But I’ll never see you again. I’ll never see Vivien again.”
“Someday, when you’re old and gray, you’ll look back on this and thank me.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Walter,” she said. “Don’t go looking at me like a stubborn old mule with your arms folded like that.”
“What if I told you that if I can’t go, I’m not helping?”
“I told you, I can’t do this myself.”
“I know.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“No it isn’t. It’s extortion.”
“It’s illegal, Walter.”
“I don’t care.”
“I can’t do this without your help, kid, and if that’s the way you’re going to be, I might as well give myself up. It won’t be pretty, but at least the others will be safe.”
“Those are my terms.”
“I can’t believe you’d do this to us.”
“Why, because it doesn’t fit the psych profile you have on me that says I’m a stupid, gullible sucker?”
“No, because I thought we were friends.”
Walter looked up at the sky and sighed at the stars and all the places in the universe outside Pitville, New Jersey that he knew he would never see. “I’ll do it. I can’t not do it. I just don’t want you to go without me.”
Millie took Walter by the shoulders and looked him square in the eyes, “Walter, trust me on this. You have to stay, and we have to go. It’s the only way the plan will work.”
Walter didn’t answer. He was too busy staring a hole in his shoes.
“You okay?” Millie said.
“A long time ago, someone told me I didn’t have the right stuff. I guess I don’t.”
“You do have the right stuff, Walter, just not the right stuff for this.”
“Please, don’t try and make me feel any better about this. Let’s just do it and get it over with before I change my mind again.”
Millie activated the trans-beamer, handed it to him, and stood back. “Good luck, boy.”
Walter began to shimmer, and as his arms dripped onto the ground in little blobs of light and his legs turned into a million fireflies, he found himself sucked into the vacuum of space and rocketing toward Scout Ship Alpha. He flumped right through the aft engines, through the hull walls, and onto deck two where he materialized in a cell closed off from the corridor by a force field. Vivien was lying on the floor in the corner.
Walter took her in his arms. “Vivien, are you all right?”
She opened her eyes and said dreamily, “Walter, is that you?”
“It’s me. I’ve come to rescue you.”
“My hero. I knew you’d come,” she said with a silly grin.
“Did they hurt you?”
“Where’s your shining armor?”
“No armor, just me,” he said.
She patted him on the cheek. “You’re so sweet.”
“Did they drug you?” he said, and then realized, “It’s that Memory Reader, isn’t it?”
“It tickled,” she giggled.
“Did you tell them anything?”
“I told them everything.”
“Everything?”
“I told them I love you, Walter,” she said.
“You love me?”
“That’s what I told that nasty old captain.”
“You love me.”
“Uh-huh.”
Alarms went off. “Intruder detected, deck two, detention cell three,” a mechanical voice announced over the loudspeaker. “Initiating lockdown.”
“We have to get out of here,” Walter said, fumbling with the trans-beamer and helping her to her feet. Keeping her upright was like holding onto JELL-O.
“Wait. I have to tell you something,” she said.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Walter. I really am.”
“It’s okay. I understand. Millie explained everything.”
“I was a bad girl, a very bad girl,” she wagged her finger, “and I hurt you. You’re so nice, Walter, and I’m so sorry.”
“I would have helped you, if you’d just asked.”
“I know. You’re so cute.” She fainted and the JELL-O slipped through his fingers and onto the floor.
Walter heard running in the corridor. “Press this,” he said, turning the trans-beamer over in his hand, “then what? Was it this one? Crap. Vivien, wake up. I need you to work this potato thing to get us out of here.”
As he bent over her, Klaxon appeared in the doorway and aimed his Lason-T at them while reaching for the control panel to turn off the force field.
Walter pulled Vivien closer, squeezed the metal potato, and they disappeared. When they materialized again, they were on the bridge standing in front of the view screen.
“Shit,” said Walter.
Vivien giggled. “Walter said a bad word.”
The surprised Captain Kleeg snarled, “You!” at them, got up from his chair, and made a move for his weapon.
Walter pointed the trans-beamer at him. “Stop right there, Captain, or I’ll shoot.”
First Officer Gak looked up from his console. “Captain, I’ve analyzed the device in Mr. Stickle’s hand. It is not a weapon.”
Kleeg removed his gun from its holster. “The penalty for aiding a wanted criminal is severe, Mr. Stickle.”
“Don’t make me do it,” Walter said, waving the trans-beamer at them.
“Do what?” Kleeg said, adjusting the dial on his Lason-T.
“This might not be a weapon, but it is a potato beamer, and I’ll beam your big potato butt right out the window into space if you make another move. Now, put the gun down.”
“Captain,” said Gak. “Mr. Stickle does appear to be holding a miniaturized beaming device, and judging from its power signature, you are within its effective range. Interesting. That would explain how Benoit’s daughter was able to beam in and out of our detention centers with the prisoners.”
Kleeg took a step backward. “Where is she?” he demanded. “Where is Varger?”
“Varger. Tobine. You knew all along, you liar. You used me, but I guess that isn’t against your Ranger code, is it? For your information, she’s waiting at the other end of this potato,” Walter said, waving the trans-beamer at him again. “Now back off and don’t try to follow us.”
Kleeg raised his weapon. Walter had no idea which combination of potato eyes to press. He didn’t know if the spud would even work again, or if Kleeg was too close and would be drawn to wherever they ended up. All he knew was that the captain was pulling the trigger. Walter looked into Vivien’s green and blue eyes and squeezed as the Lason-T’s particle beam passed through their dissolving forms and fizzled against the hull.
They materialized in a large room in a sea of glass-like cylinders attached in groups of eight by tubes and wires to massive central control units, like mechanical octopi waiting to be awakened. The room was uncomfortably chilly.
“It’s cold,” Vivien complained.
Walter shushed her, “Not so loud, Vivien.”
“Okay, Walter, anything you say.”
“Where are we?” he whispered. His breath condensed into a fog that froze as it touched the glass of one of the cylinders.
“We’re with the Sleepers, Walter. I’m tired. Please, get me a blanket. I want to go to sleep now.”
He struggled to hold her upright. “Vivien, you have to tell me which buttons to push to take us back.”
“Push them all. I don’t care. I want to go back to sleep.”
A red light came on above the bank of cryo-tubes where they were hiding. An alarm sounded. Walter wiped away the fog from the glass of the tube beside him. Inside the cylinder, blue, green, and white lights began to shimmer.
“Now you’ve done it,” Vivien said. “He’s not going to be happy with you when he wakes up, Walter.”
Walter carried Vivien to another bank of tubes, and they hid behind them. “Does the potato have a radio in it?” he asked.
“Potatoes don’t have radios, silly.”
“The trans-beamer. Does it have a radio? Can I talk to Millie with it?”
Vivien probed her face with her fingertips. “I lost my glasses,” she pouted.
“Millie has them,” said Walter.
“Then you can’t talk to her, and that’s that. Would you ask one of those nice Rangers if I could use their bed when they get up?”
Eight cryo-tubes hissed as they opened together, and along with a cloud of steam rising from them were the ethereal forms of eight Galactic Rangers, shimmering in the dim light of the cryo-deck like a million fireflies dancing over Alcorn Lake on a summer’s night.
“We need a place to hide,” Walter said.
“You can’t hide, Walter.” Vivien pointed to what looked like a camera and sensors mounted on a support beam high above them. “They see everything. Hi,” she waved.
“That’s it!” said Walter.
Vivien blinked. “What’s it?”
“You’re a genius.”
“I am?”
“Millie has your glasses. She’s got to be wondering what happened to us.” He stood up and waved to the camera. “Millie, if you’re watching this, we need your help. We need a place to hide until Vivien recovers. Come on, Millie, show me a sign.”
A light blinked three times on the sensor. Then, after a pause, it blinked again three times, but the middle blink this time was shorter than the other two.
“Pretty lights,” Vivien said.
“Millie?” said Walter, staring at the sensor.
The light blinked again — three long, three short, three long.
“Wait,” said Walter. “That’s Morse code. I got a merit badge for this in Boy Scouts. That’s S-O-S, and the first thing she said was ‘O-K.’ Okay, Millie, I understand,” he said. “Just tell me which buttons to push.”
The Rangers were taking shape into flight form, and Vivien was right – they did not look happy.
“Shit, shit, shit,” said Walter. “There’s no time.”
“Walter said a bad word again,” Vivien giggled. “I’m telling your Mommy.”
The sensor lights blinked.
“F-O-L-L-O-W,” Walter spelled out. “Follow? Follow what?”
The sensor went dark and a light on one farther away blinked.
“More pretty lights,” Vivien pointed.
“Come on,” said Walter, grabbing Vivien and half-carrying her toward the second blinking light.
It stopped when they got to it, and another even farther away began to blink. When they reached that one, yet another blinked, and another. The trail of blinking lights led them around the banks of tubes to a door at the far end of the chamber that opened onto an empty corridor. The lights directed them down the corridor to a door at the end. Beside it, was a control panel with two buttons — purple and red.
“Which do I push?” he wondered.
“I like purple,” said Vivien.
“Okay, purple it is.”
He pressed the button, and the door slid open. First Officer Gak was standing behind it with his Lason-T aimed at them and his other hand outstretched.
“Give me the trans-beaming device, Mr. Stickle,” he said.
“You tricked us,” said Walter.
“Not a difficult task. I have been studying your civilization since we arrived. Yours is a society that believes it is built on improbabilities and good luck. Therefore, I surmised correctly that you would foolishly think that, despite the improbability, Varger would attempt to contact you to provide assistance. I selected Morse code as the method of achieving believability, given your background and ill-formed brain.”
“Ill-formed brain?” Walter said. “Ill-form this.” He squeezed the metal potato, and they disappeared and reappeared in another corridor in front of a set of reinforced metal doors. A sign on the wall beside the doors was in a language alien to Walter.
“Of course, it would be alien to me,” he muttered. “This is an alien ship, not a sci-fi movie where everything is in English or subtitled.”
“It says ‘Storage Bay Three,” Vivien said.
“You can read that?”
“I’m Argonian, Walter.”
“Do you know what’s inside?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Okay, what?”
“Storage, silly.”
Walter opened the door, and they went inside. The air rippled as they passed into the compressed space. The bay was a hundred yards long and nearly as many wide, though when Walter looked back into the corridor, the next door down the hall was a mere twenty feet from the bay doors. The bay contained all sorts of bolted and strapped-down machinery, armored vehicles, a small spacecraft, and one fifty foot-high robot standing rigid and silent.
While Walter was taking it all in, Vivien wandered away to a control panel. He didn’t notice until she turned one of the dials, and a tremor passed through the room.
“Don’t touch that,” he said.
“Don’t you want to see Earth? It’s so pretty from space.”
The doors at the far end of the bay rumbled upward and opened onto the vastness of space, with nothing separating them from it but an invisible force field that tingled when Walter put his fingers too close. Below them, Walter’s marbled-blue world rotated silently on its axis amid the myriad lights of the universe. Somewhere down there was Pitville and the people he cared for, the ones he hadn’t said good-bye to that day or told how much he loved, but then he hadn’t expected to be three hundred miles above the planet in a space ship with hostile aliens trying to kill him.
“Wow,” he said. The moon was just disappearing behind the Earth, leaving a momentary halo of gold to grace its circumference. “I’ve dreamed of this my whole life, and now, here I am. It’s so beautiful.”
Walter turned away and went over to Vivien, who was fiddling with the control panel.
“Do you like the robot?” she said.
“What are you doing?”
“He’s like you, Walter, a knight in shining armor.”
She pressed a few buttons and a door slid open on the robot’s leg. Taking Walter by the hand, she led him inside, where she pressed more buttons. The door slid closed and the floor rose up through the robot, stopping in a cockpit inside its head. There were two pilot seats. Vivien sat down in one and Walter in the other. He had seen the Space Shuttle Endeavour’s cockpit once, a cramped little room filled with computer screens of indecipherable numbers and diagrams. There were levers to pull, buttons to push, and switches to toggle. The robot’s cockpit was like that, only worse — everything was in Argonian.
