The Forgotten Planet
Chapter 23 – Fallout

Click. Adan cocked the hammer back and said, “Remember me asshole?”

Paul sneered and reached for his pistol, but just as his fingertips brushed the handle of the holstered weapon on his hip, Adan’s ancient pistol barked and spit fire, and a single red dot appeared on Paul’s forehead. Time stopped for a moment, as my father’s killer, dead on his feet, somehow defied gravity and remained standing. Then a thin trickle of blood snaked down our old enemy’s leathery skin and time restarted with a jump. Gravity caught up with Paul, dragging his lifeless body down like a sack of rocks.

“That’ll teach ya,” Adan said to the dead man, who scowled even in death. Adan looked at me and nodded, then twirled the pistol on his finger and re-holstered it in one fluid movement. He gave me a pat on the back and a friendly wink, and I smiled up at him with an equal mixture of love and hero-worship.

Then reality intervened and my eyes shot open. The room was pitch black, and it took me a minute to realize where I was and that I had been dreaming.

“Damn,” I said aloud, as I rubbed sleep from my eyes. I much preferred the dream version of the confrontation to the real one. I threw the blankets off and realized I was still wearing my clothes and shoes. I faintly remembered resisting Adan and Vee when they tried to undress me.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed my brother was in the room with me. He was sleeping in a molded chair that wasn’t designed for someone as tall as he was. Uncomfortable or not, he was snoring softly with his hat tipped down over his face and his boots propped up on my bed.

“Hey bro, I’m awake,” I said as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood. I reached high and tried to stretch the kinks out of my back. Firm mattress might be better for nighttime gymnastics, but not for chronic back pain. Adan eased the hat passed his eyes and looked up at me.

“You ok?” he asked. I nodded and he smiled. “That’s good. I was worried that big brain of yours might have shorted out.”

“I didn’t think it would have hit me that hard,” I answered.

“Remember when I interrogated Paul’s partner Avery?” I nodded again. It was a mostly rhetorical question. We both had that day etched into the insides of our skulls.

“I threw up in the bushes afterwards.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“That was the point. Listen,” he was looking everywhere but at me. Finally, after a deep breath, he looked me in the eye and continued, “I should have handled business myself. I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Now it was me avoiding eye contact. All this sensitivity and feeling-sharing crap was making me want to run in the opposite direction, but I still held my breath, and waited for the answer. My emotions were as raw as they’d been in years.

“Hell no, I’m not mad bro – I’m grateful,” Adan answered. “I had every intention of going through with it myself. I just expected Paul to be an asshole. Then when he was so damn contrite, it threw me off. I was hoping you weren’t mad at me.”

“Did we do the right thing?” Did I do the right thing.

“Morally? I don’t know bro,” Adan answered. “I think so. He’s had this coming for ten years now.” He sighed and asked, “Do you feel better knowing that the man that killed our family is dead?” When he put it that way, the answer seemed obvious. I swallowed a sob and nodded. “Well then, there you go.”

Adan pulled me in for a hug and I did my best not to squirm.

“Your girl’s in the galley waiting for you,” he said after releasing me from the clutches of his dreaded bear hug. “She’s making you lunch or something.”

I found Veesil in the kitchen wearing a pink, ankle length silk robe, tied at the waist with a thick blue sash. She was just pulling a steaming kettle off the convection stove when I arrived, and the smile she gave me when she noticed I was there was like a warm ray of sunshine through a window on a cold day. I couldn’t remember anyone looking at me like that since my mom passed. That thought made the moment a bittersweet one.

“Perfect timing,” Vee said. “I was just about to come and wake you. Sit.” She gestured with a nod to the round white table that was more chips and stains than original surface. I did as ordered.

Two gray mugs were on the table, and Vee poured the hot water into each one.

“My Happy Sales tea set and all my accessories are still in the galley of my old ship,” Vee said. “Pretend the kettle is a pretty red petit number with a bunch of golden koi painted on the sides.”

What Vee said meant almost nothing to me, so I smiled and nodded. She mixed green powder from a brown paper bag into the mugs and kept stirring more in until the resulting liquid had a pungent, earthy aroma and was so green that it practically glowed. After that, she put down a plate of cookies and sat down next to me.

“I feel like a barbarian doing Obon Temae with coffee mugs and western utensils,” Vee grumbled. “I wanted this to be special, but apparently it’s too much to expect a pirate base to have a proper tea shop.”

“What kind of tea is this?” I asked, working hard to keep the doubt off of my face.

Pop used to make English Breakfast tea on occasion, but it didn’t look or smell anything like this. Adan once told me that mom used to drink tea in the afternoon, and I think dad would make some when he was missing her. He’d let us have ours with a spoonful (or three in my case) of honey.

“It’s called Macha,” Vee answered. “It’s for special occasions, or,” she paused and looked down before answering, “or special people. After what you went through today, I wanted to do something special for you.”

My voice caught in my throat. Since I’d met Vee, she’d performed a smash-and-grab on my apartment, fought two enhanced humans in hand-to-hand combat for the fun of it, and sabotaged her former crew’s ship with high explosives. She was a force of nature in a cuddly blue wrapper, but sitting next to me, serving me tea, was the first time she’d looked vulnerable.

“I’ve never done this for anyone before,” she said. She turned her jade eyes on me and added, “I’ve never wanted to, until now.” My eyes were getting misty when I kissed her.

When I pulled back, she said, “That isn’t part of the tea ceremony.”

“My mistake,” I replied. “It’s my first time too.”

“It’s customary to tell me you like the tea, even if you don’t,” Vee said as she slid a steaming bowl in front of me.

“I’m sure I’ll like it. Do I put milk in it?”

“I mean, I guess you could,” she answered with a giggle, “if deep down you’re an uncultured simian.”

“Point taken,” I replied. I blew on it and took a sip. The tea was thicker than black tea, and it had an earthy, vegetable flavor with a slightly sweet aftertaste.

“This is great, Vee,” I said.

“No, you’re drinking it wrong,” Vee said. She pulled the mug close and began to lap it up with her tongue. “Ah, so much better. It aerates the palate that way. You try.”

“Isn’t tea from Earth culture?” I asked. “I know for a fact Terrans don’t drink tea that way.”

“What? No! Are you disparaging my people? Everyone knows we invented tea.” Her face could have possibly passed for angry, in poor lighting maybe, but not her eyes. They were sparkling. Dazzling. But not angry.

I bent down and lapped up a bit of the liquid. “Wow, the air does make it better.” I took a few more licks. “I’m going to start eating with mouth open now too.”

“You’d match your brother that way.” She sighed and rested her chin on her hand. “You’re getting harder to punk.” She pushed the plate of cookies closer to me. They were thin green wafers with something creamy in the middle. “Try a cookie.”

I was chewing before the last words left her lips. She smiled. “As good as your chocolate?” I nodded, because my mouth was full again.

After washing it down with a bit of tea, I asked, “You bought these or made them.”

“I made them,” she replied.

“And you can make them again?”

“Sure, it’s just normal baking stuff.” I shoved another in. “The butter cream filling is just various dairy products and sugar, and for shortbread you just add some flour and a little Macha.” Her eyebrows raised and she said, “Tiger, you’re going to make yourself sick.” I shrugged. “Haven’t you ever had a cookie before?”

“Mom may have made them,” I answered, as I covered my half-full mouth, “but I don’t remember how they tasted. Sugar was a luxury back on Palance.”

“Well, I’m happy to bake for you, but I’ll need some equal services in return.” My ears may have perked up a bit. She smiled, showing incisors. “Probably multiple services.” She cocked her head to one side and asked, “How flexible are you?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll start stretching my hamstrings if that will help,” I answered.

“It’s really about loosening up the hip joints,” she said as she snatched a cookie from my slow Terran fingers. There were plenty to choose from on the plate I might add. “Don’t worry, I’ll limber you up.” She took a bite to the cookie and offered me the other half.

“Do you want to talk about Martel?” I shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’d have done the same thing in your place.” She took a sip of her tea and added, “but, I would have ripped his heart out of his chest with my claws.” She said it so matter-of-factly that I did a double-take when I realized what she said. “My people believe that justice should fit the crime. In a way, he ripped your heart out when he killed your kin.”

“Eye for an eye,” I said. She nodded. “But he was sorry.” She rolled her eyes and I added, “I could tell he meant it. He apologized and asked for forgiveness.”

“Did he search you out and ask for forgiveness. No, he ran halfway across the galaxy and hid from you. He was a coward, Galen. You should have told him to shove his sorry up his ass.”

“I actually told him that he could be sorry in hell,” I said.

“Oh snap, Tiger,” Vee answered, “That’s a good line.”

“Ok, so the tea, the clothes, the little brown monster-”

“You mean my precious Domo?” she asked with a pout.

“Yeah, him,” I answered. “The waving cat, the um, sheer silk robe...”

The canines made another appearance. “You like the robe?” Her tail twitched back and forth behind her to a pattern that didn’t follow any mathematical formula that I could identify offhand.

“I do actually.” I cleared my throat. “You’re very distracting.”

She shrugged. “Am I?”

I fought to maintain eye contact. “I did a little research in the Depository, and it all seems to originate from a small island nation back on Earth.” I tried not to think of how ridiculous it was that I had to learn about my own culture from an alien database.

“The island is called Japan,” she answered. “My great grandfather was a lieutenant on a battleship in the Confederation Navy. His commander was an Earthman of Japanese descent named Riku Takada, and they served together for over a decade. They became close friends and over the years they exchanged gifts and mementos. He gave my mom Domo when she was five. She called Takada kanji, which means uncle.” She stared across the room before adding, “Their ship was lost in the battle of Rigel Seven.”

I reached out and touched my cheek, and she took her hand in mine.

Was this love? There was definitely something biological going on below the friendship and physicality. Increased endorphin production, selective serotonin uptake inhibition and a cascade of other gene expressions that currently unfolding according to my ’Seven’s biological indicators. Whether the resulting chemistry was the cause of my feelings, or a happy byproduct was open to interpretation. I’m not even sure it matters. Then Russell entered the room and ruined the moment.

“Good, you’re up.” Then he seemed to feel the vibe of the room. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, sort of,” I answered honestly.

“We just completed a bonding activity, and now we’re going to go express our feelings in a physical manner. Probably more than once.” I almost fell out of my chair. Was she screwing with him, or just being far too informative? It’s so hard to tell with her. Russell was momentarily a loss for words. After a few uncomfortable moments, he said, “Sorry, but this can’t wait. Let’s meet up in the common area ASAP.” He then retreated before we could argue.

I stood up and held out my hand. “Well, we might as well get the meeting over with.”

“Ooh, such a gentleman.” She stood up and took my hand – but instead of letting herself be led away, she pulled me in for a kiss. It was a good kiss, and I kissed her back in an equally good manner. Plus, the robe was very sheer. Meeting or no – some things you just can’t rush.

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