The tiny freighter blinked out of hyperspace just outside of Neptune’s orbit. The blue planet hung inside the viewport like a rearview ornament. Triton floated in from the side, its pastel sheen serving as a stark contrast. Even with billions of miles between him and home, Max stared at the image with an odd mixture of assurance and reluctance.
“First jump complete,” Zoey said as she started prep on the supplier jump.
Perra turned to Max. “This will take a little while if you want to stretch your legs.”
Max glanced down at the snoring kitty in his lap, then smiled at Perra. “I’m good, thanks.”
She returned the smile and refocused on helping Zoey.
Max glanced around the cockpit, taking mental notes of every switch and panel. He watched Zoey and Perra relay instruction back and forth like skilled dancers. Their voices trailed away, trapped inside a hazy echo, retreating further and further until the image crumbled. Max took a long and steady breath, then wiped his welling eyes on a sleeve.
“Coms up, beacon masked, let’s get this party started.” Zoey flicked an overhead switch and hailed the local port authority. “M-class freighter 687-B3 to transit.”
“Go ahead, M-class,” a static voice said.
“Requesting merchant clearance to jump site E2. Access code 922479.”
“Stand by.”
Perra crossed her fingers as they awaited a reply.
“Access granted. Jump when ready to subsite 14.”
“Thank you, transit.”
Zoey and Perra smirked and bumped fists.
“Seriously,” Perra said. “How many times has Gamon saved our asses?”
“I lost count a long time ago,” Zoey said while tapping coordinates into the console.
“When this is over, we should plan an extended stay at Durangoni and bring him a proper gift.”
“Agreed.”
An onset of sniffles hooked their attention. They turned to Max, who was on the verge of an ugly cry. A snot bubble expanded and contracted, accenting his puffy eyes and red cheeks. He frowned like a clown-for-hire with a backlog of bad life decisions.
“I feel ya, Earthman,” Zoey said. “If we had to return to Mulgawat, I’d be a sniveling wreck too.” She turned back to the console and thumped the jump icon, prompting a sliver of purple light to engulf the ship.
* * *
Nifan and Lord Essien wheezed and cackled over their seventh martinis. Essien stared at the ceiling while stretched across the tattered couch. Nifan stood at the bar, wobbling a bit as she topped off a beverage. The laughter subsided with a pair of heavy sighs.
“I had totally forgotten about that jackhole,” Essien said.
“Those chins, man. They stuck out for days,” Nifan said as she stumbled back to the couch. She swish-plopped into the cushions, spilling a bit of her drink.
Lord Essien lifted her legs and draped them over Nifan’s lap. “I kinda feel bad about Jai.”
Nifan grunted. “What for? I never understood what you saw in that green, greeny green, meathead man thing.”
“I treated him like shit.”
“Since when do you care about the peons?”
“I don’t. But he was like, super-duper loyal, which is so hard to find in a minion these days. Who knows, maybe he survived.”
Nifan raked a tipsy gaze over the Terramesh ruination, then fluttered her lips. “Doubtful.”
“Am I pretty?”
Nifan puckered her face and turned to Essien. “Sweetie, you’re the prettiest—” She dry heaved, then patted a belch from her chest. “Sorry ... you’re the prettiest pretty lady I have ever seen, ever.”
Essien grinned, then scrunched her brow. “The room is starting to spin.”
“Then spin with it, lover.” Nifan swirled a spill from her glass. “We ain’t got nowhere to be but here.”
“I’m just, um, I’m just gonna close my eyes for a bit. I’m not sleeping, promise.”
“Do what you need to.”
“Ugh, that just makes it worse.”
Nifan groaned like a chore-laden teen and dropped her head on the rear cushion. “Fucking ferret.”
* * *
Jai Ferenhal sat upon a small boulder inside a dank cave while overlooking a pitiful campfire, again. The mound of dried algae he burned required constant attention. With no sticks to account for, he poked at it with the toe of his dirty boot. Every jostle belched a cloud of tiny embers. A column of white smoke climbed to the ceiling and slithered along the ridges, like an inverted haunted house.
A muted rumble filled the cavern, prompting a sigh and grimace. Jai glanced over to a massive heap of dried algae, enough to feed the fire for an entire fortnight. Soon after, a rolling mound of flesh skidded to a halt and puked another batch onto the pile.
“Is this enough, friend?!” Phil said.
Jai eyed the flesh pile, then the algae pile, then the flesh pile, then closed his eyes for a moment to mourn the loss of peace. “No. Still need more.”
“Okie dokie artichokie!” Phil sprouted a tendril, saluted Jai, then raced out of the cavern.
* * *
With a final flash of light, the familiar blue-green dome of Earth filled the viewport. Despite the circumstance, Max grinned as he walked his gaze through the icy mountains of Greenland and down to the lush forests of North America. An endless bank of clouds swirled atop the deep blue seas. The vision captured his mind, as if plucked from the pages of an astronomy textbook.
“So this is home,” Perra said.
“Yup,” Max said. “That’s my rock.”
“Did you miss it?”
Max thought for a moment. “In some ways.”
“I know what you mean,” Zoey said with a slight nod. “Mulgawat isn’t my favorite place in the ‘verse, but there are some creature comforts I miss.”
“Like a good grompum stew,” Perra said.
“With a side of toasted miriash,” Zoey said.
The ladies groaned at the delicious memory.
Max sighed to himself.
Numerous supply ships queued up over the Greenland port entrance, awaiting their turns to descend through the atmosphere. Zoey joined the line. A small station managed the merchant traffic, like a tollbooth jockey floating in orbit. Before long, the ship overlooked the Earthly landscape with nobody to block the view. A sizzle of static filled the cabin, followed by a sharp ping and a robotic voice.
“M-class freighter 687-B3 cleared for entry.”
“Copy,” Zoey said, then powered the main engines.
The ship glided through the upper atmosphere, leaving a trail of flame in its wake. The cockpit bumped and rattled as orange streaks flooded the viewport. The rumbling ceased soon after, leaving them to the snowy peaks of Greenland. Patches of actual green appeared as they neared the coast, giving way to a boundless plane of blue. Merchant vessels gathered around the large southern port, used mostly as a routing station. A distinct lack of shiny hulls gave the area a transient presence, like the shipping docks of old.
“What’s the city again?” Perra said.
“Albuquerque,” Max said.
“Going to have to spell that for me.”
Max grinned. “Haven’t had to do that for a while. A, l, b, u, q—”
“There it is, got it.” Perra studied a regional data panel. “Hmm, looks like the closest supplier port is in Denver. We can park there and take the maglev rail south. Straight shot, 20 minutes.”
“What’s a minute?” Zoey said.
“Like, 50 ticks. Half a boink, basically.”
Zoey huffed. “Earthlings and their imperial nonsense.” She turned to Max with a mocking stare. “You can join the rest of the universe anytime you want.”
“Two minutes is a boink?” Max said.
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing, just oddly relevant.”
Perra entered their final destination as Zoey confirmed the relay with the Greenland port. They sailed past the com towers and over the ocean, retaining a comfortable cruising altitude all the way to Denver. Cities and ports littered the surface as they pushed into the mainland. Toronto stuck out as a bustling metropolis with floating parks and gleaming skyscrapers, drawing oohs and ahhs from the Mulgawats. Ross continued to snore in Max’s lap.
Perra located a long-term storage facility that accepted non-Federation funds. Knowing the dangers of their career choice, Zoey and Perra planned ahead and distributed their wealth around the cosmos. They deposited income inside a variety of institutions, everything from the PCDS Galactic Credit Union to the hollow floor panel of a cash-only moon rental. Non-Federation banks offered the one-two punch of support and secrecy. Criminal factions adored them, but all it took was a nasty local conflict to wipe out every cent. The Terramesh implosion snuffed out hundreds of these banks, generating a tidal wave of instability.
Zoey cruised over the Denver outskirts and descended on a grungy warehouse facility that resembled an RV park. A scruffy chap named Rufus guided them into the bowels of the main hangar, which offered 24-hour security at a higher premium. They paid, tipped well, and started locking down the ship. Perra secured the engine room as Zoey cleared the cabins. She emerged with a duffle bag of personal items and dropped it at the base of a wall locker.
“Double and triple check your gear,” Zoey said to Max. “Don’t leave anything behind that can trace you home.”
Max lifted a half-full backpack. “Not much to trace.”
“The ship will disinfect itself, so don’t worry about any biomarkers.”
“Bio what?”
“Stains,” Ross said. “You are a teenage boy after all.”
“I’m a young adult, thank you.”
“Oh, does that mean fewer stains?”
Max opened his mouth to reply, but huffed and walked towards the airlock.
Perra emerged from the engine room with a small bag of tools and gadgets. She added them to the duffle bag as Zoey retrieved the plasma pistols from the wall locker and slipped them into a specialized pouch. Perra grabbed the duffle and swung it over her neck, adjusting for comfort. Zoey placed the pouch into her sling pack along with a few more items. After a final sweep, the group gathered around the airlock.
“There’s a maglev station on the next block,” Perra said. “Easy walk.”
Zoey turned to Max. “Anything we should know?”
“About what?”
“About Earth, nimrod. This is your home. Any cultural or social issues we should know about?”
“Oh, right. Um ... last time I checked, everybody hated everybody.”
“Standard tribal crap,” Ross said. “Just sneer at anyone who doesn’t look like you and you’ll fit right in.”
“Baseline bigotry, got it.”
The group exited the freighter one by one, dropping to a grimy concrete floor. Floodlights overhead filled the hangar with an ominous glow, like a gangster bar on an epic scale. With the vessel locked up and powered down, Perra closed the airlock door and disabled the access panel. She gave the boxy craft a loving pat.
“Be good, baby. We’ll be back for you later.”
The jaunt back to Albuquerque was largely uneventful, aside from a social incident involving a blue-haired scientist and his yellow-shirted grandson. Max was caught staring, which provoked the scientist to mercilessly berate him. The grandson moaned with anxiety as the scientist belched an array of expletives. After all was said and done, Max tried to explain why it was one of the greatest moments of his life. Zoey and Perra refused to accept such a stupid premise and the discussion stalled for the rest of the trip.
They caught an auto-cab back to Max’s place, a simple ranch-style home located in the foothills. Max spent the trip observing in silence while Zoey and Perra gabbed about the Earth humans and their silly lawn care habits, pointing and laughing the entire way. Ross used the trip to catch up on a backlog of belly grooming.
The auto-cab turned a final corner and glided to a stop along the curb. Zoey and Perra exited the car and retrieved their bags from the trunk. Ross leapt onto the sidewalk and started trotting towards the house. Max studied the abode from the passenger seat, staring through the window with the same misgiving of an ex-girlfriend’s place. The auto-cab took the opportunity to scan his iris for payment. An open door followed a ping of confirmation, cab AI for get the hell out. Max hooked his backpack and stepped onto the curb. The auto-cab closed its own door and sped away.
“So this is it, huh?” Zoey said.
“Yup,” Max said with the same enthusiasm as a trip to the dentist.
“It’s cute,” Perra said. “I like it.”
Max sighed and led the charge up to the front door of a beige box with simple windows. He gazed into an ID plate, which scanned his eye and pinged with confirmation. The door unlocked and Max nudged it open with a gentle hand. Ceiling panels brightened to a pleasant glow as he stepped inside and dropped his backpack to the floor. Max glanced around a sleek and modern interior painted with cool blues and stark grays. A collection of geometric furnishings filled the space with precision, amounting to the minimalist decor of a tech-minded bachelor.
“Welcome home, Master,” the house AI said in a warm and pleasant feminine tone.
“Good to see you, Veronica. Or, hear you rather.”
“What a pleasant surprise. I was unaware that you were in town.”
“Wasn’t planning to be, but here we are.”
Ross trotted into the living room and jumped onto the angular couch.
“And there is mister fuzzy-wuzzy,” the AI said with a babyish voice.
“Hello, Vee,” Ross said.
Veronica gasped. “Love the British accent.”
“There’s more,” Max said as Zoey and Perra wandered through the front door.
Veronica gasped again. “And who are the lovely ladies? Did you join a cult?”
“Did I—what? No, they’re just friends. They’re going to stay with us for a little while.”
“Ah, it has been a very long time since we have had a female houseguest.”
Max sighed. “Yes it has.”
“And what are their names?”
Zoey and Perra traded hesitant glances.
Max stammered. “Um, Thelma and Louise.”
Ross snorted.
“A pleasure to meet you, Thelma and Louise. My name is Veronica. I manage the home and remain at your beck and call. The guest quarters are down the hall and to your right. Please make yourselves at home and I will brew everyone a fresh batch of coffee.”
“Thank you, Veronica,” Perra said. She smiled at Max, nudged Zoey, and started down the hallway.
“Be right back,” Zoey said. “Gonna dump our stuff and give our backs a much-needed rest.”
“Take your time,” Max said.
The door closed behind them, leaving Max and Ross in the living room.
“Are you sure about this?” Ross said.
Max shrugged. “What choice do I have?”
“Decaf or regular,” Veronica said.
“No, um. I mean, you know what I mean.”
“Are you well, Master?”
Max groaned and took a breath. “Yes, I’m fine. Regular, please. Always regular.”
Ross frowned as Max plopped into the sofa and rubbed his forehead in distress. He flinched when a steaming pot of java emerged from the hovering coffee table.
Zoey and Perra rejoined them a short time later. They all sat around the table and regaled the latest adventure while enjoying a rare moment of peace. Shoes came off and belts loosened, creating the carefree vibe of a slumber party. Cups of coffee morphed into mugs of grog. Stories turned to jokes. For once, the group managed to shed their rugged personas and enjoy each other as true friends.
Fatigue struck them hard and fast. With stress relieved and refuge secured, the pleasures of a soft mattress proved too great a temptation. They decided to cap the evening and claim a well-earned slumber, having conquered their great escape. They all paused at the end of the hall before parting into their respective bedrooms.
Zoey eyed Max, adding a warm smile. “You really came through for us. We will never forget this.”
Max grinned. “Well, you did save me from the Suth’ra. I figured I owed you one.”
Perra smiled wide and gave him a tight hug. “We love you, Earthman.”
Zoey hugged him as well, adding a macho back slap.
“Ditto,” Max said.
Ross snorted. “So he’s the hero for offering you a place to crash? I conjure a giant ferret and ignite a holy war to save your arses, but lose out to a fluffy pillow. Got it.”
Perra giggled and lowered to a knee. “We love you too, doofus.” She scratched his cheeks with both hands, igniting an instant purr.
“Alright gang, let’s get some rest.” Zoey opened the door and slipped inside.
“See you in the morning,” Perra said and closed the door behind her.
Max and Ross glanced at each other, then shuffled into the master bedroom. Once inside, Max turned to the guest bedroom door and gave it a long final look. He could hear the muted muffles of his dear friends as they settled in, safe and secure. A thin band of light beneath the door vanished as the bedside lamps cut out. Max expelled a heavy sigh as he closed the door to a treasured life.
Ross assumed his usual position at the foot of the bed, twirling a few times before settling into a fuzzy orange pile. Max stroked his back for a while, turning purrs into snores before dragging himself to the bathroom. He studied all the grooming tools as if poking through a peculiar collection of alien artifacts. A squeeze tube of green paste, a wand with stiff bristles, a twist-can of smelly gunk, all of it familiar yet distant. He stumbled through the routine and capped it off with a frown at his own reflection. After a brief trek to the closet to disrobe, he waddled back to the bedroom and slid his wearied body under the sheets.
The lights dimmed automatically, creating a dusky hue. Tired eyes stared at the ceiling as his mind conjured images from an Earthly past. He watched his parents bicker in the kitchen over trivial bullshit. He watched his girlfriend levy scorn over some unknown social faux pas. He watched his schoolmates drone on and on about the latest and greatest whatever. He watched himself play computer games down in the basement, locked inside an endless loop of eat, escape, repeat. He watched it all, content with the realization that his family was safe. At least, here in this world, the only one that mattered.
Max smiled as his eyelids fell.
* * *
Eight seconds later, his eyelids popped open.
“Veronica?”
“Yes, Master?”
“I’m going to need a large pot of espresso.”