Stellar Objects

Chapter 7: Hands Dirty

Andra slid into the shuttle's pilot seat.

She ran her hands over the instrument panel. Reacting to her gesture, the digital displays burst to life. It was all so...real. But the layout was exactly like she'd controlled a thousand times before in holographic viseo games.

"You're sure you can fly this?" asked George.

"Like a kite," she said with a smile.

"Maybe not the best expression," her brother said. George had once built them a flying kite out of old plastic bags, and they soared it over the Heap until someone in Simmo's gang shot it down.

"Jus' watch me," she said.

Andra waved her hand over the navigation panel and a 3D map of the sector illuminated in front of her. She pinched her forefinger and thumb together, and then spread them apart; the display following her command to give her a wider view of the galaxy. That's when she saw it, Earth.

It was a just tiny brown dot, but it was home. Andra tapped the planet and the computer's voice recited: "Planet Earth, dominant population homo sapiens, present population twenty-four billion."

"Plus two," George cheered, almost laughing with excitement. "We're going home!"

She reached over clutched her brother's hand. She squeezed twice, sharing his enthusiasm.

"Ick, George," she gagged, pulling her hand away. His nails were black and his hand was covered in a layer of oily filth. "When didja wash your hands?"

"What?" he shrugged. "You wanted the energy vacuum disabled and I had to do it manually. I can't just press a button, or the whole ship would know what we're up to. If you want to do a job right..."

"You gotta get your hands dirty," she said, finishing his sentence. "Yer right, George."

"Grunge," he said, correcting her.

"Well, you've earned the name today."

Andra set a course for Earth and fired up the roto-fusion reactor. It was time to fly.

                                                                                           *

Judson stood straight as the steel door clanked shut.

Another prison. He smiled at his captor. He'd escaped from cells before and he'd do it again. But still, he wondered, he'd never had a jailer this pretty before. No, not pretty, he corrected himself, annoying.

"Get comfortable," the pretty, annoying – pretty annoying – lieutenant said.

"You think this'll hold me?" he said. "I've got someone to be."

"A date?" she asked, checking that the door was secure. "I'm afraid you're going to stand her up. Or him."

"Them," he said. Judson had made a promise to deliver his cargo, and he wasn't going to let some galactic do-gooder stand in his way.

"I don't want to know," she said.

"I do," chirped a voice. Judson glanced to the corner to see a teenager rise from his steel bench. Just great, he thought. If he was alone in the brig, his escape would be easier, but now he had to content with a kid in the corner.

"I don't do babysitting," Judson said.

"Judson, meet Shakes," the cop said, almost smiling. "Shakes meet Judson. You two can talk about, oh I don't know, criminal stuff. And babysit each other."

This kid, Shakes, was tall and lean with an unkempt tuft of brown hair. He had a wide grin that Judson didn't trust. Nobody could be that smug stuck in jail. Strangely, the teen took a bow. But it wasn't the customary Namaste greeting; this was something more....theatrical.

As the lieutenant turned to leave, her radio crackled – a man's voice, Mumbai accent, upper-caste: "Sergeant lieutenant, you missed a couple."

"Negative, Captain," she said, rolling her eyes. "I've apprehended the traitor and he's secure in the brig with our other non-paying guest."

Judson resented the term. "I'm not a traitor," he called. "It's this war, it betrays us all. If there's a traitor it's the Raj and he..."

"Easy brother," called the kid. "She can kill you for less."

The teen had a point. He was in the Galactic Navy's custody now, and whatever he thought of the Raj's pointless war, he had to keep his mouth shut.

"Save it for your court marshal," the cop said.

"Negative indeed," said the Captain's voice. Judson could tell his patience was being tried. "There are two more life forms in that shuttle, energy vacuum suspended. It's preparing to launch."

The cop strode back towards Judson's cell, standing directly opposite him. "You've got accomplices?" she asked.

"I work alone," Judson said. It could have been his motto.

"On my way, sir," she said into her radio, turning back to stare at Judson. "If you're lying, you'll die alone."

And then she was gone, leaving Judson in the dank brig with a kid for company.

"You must've really ticked her off," Shakes said.

"I'm sure it's not personal," Judson replied.

"Ha!" Shakes laughed. "I saw the way she looked at you. It's totally personal."

Judson sighed. Another prison, but with a kid for company and a cop with a grudge. He had to get out. He had a promise to keep.

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What's going on with Judson? Why does he need to escape so badly?

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