Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

I got inside after getting the door code from Delovoa. It took a few tries to reach him; tele communication was getting spotty.

There were no guards, but the downstairs had been gutted. It was almost completely empty. I’d never really appreciated how big his place was: it was nearly an entire block underground.

All the weapons were certainly gone. Only bits and pieces of equipment and the very largest of machines they couldn’t pull out remained. I searched through the area and found a couple items that Delovoa might want. It would give him something to tinker with if nothing else.

I put the things in a small trunk I found upstairs and took a train home. I hadn’t seen Jyen and Jyonal in a while, and realized, to my surprise, I missed the poor kids.

Jyen opened the door. I half expected her to have polka dot skin this time, but she was merely blue.

“Hank,” she said, with her usual excitement, and invited me inside.

“Hey.”

She looked up at me with her wet, panicked eyes.

“We haven’t heard from you in so long. We didn’t know if you had left us. Everything is so awful.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll make us some food. Sit down, tell me how you’ve been.”

“Is Jyonal here?” I asked.

“He’s sleeping. He’s—he’ll be sleeping for a while. Sit down. Let’s talk.”

I sat.

“The short news is things aren’t good. The military owns the station as you can see. There’s still no way to get out. I have guards following me around and now it looks like a bunch of people are trying to fight back.”

“Are you going to fight back?” she asked, full of worry.

Good question. I started to answer and stopped.

“I don’t know. It really seems pointless.”

“Then what will we do?” she asked.

We. The siblings could help—in theory. But if the military learned Jyonal was here, I doubted they would hesitate sacrificing all of Belvaille to get him back.

I shrugged.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked in the same tone, as if this were the next logical question. She wasn’t smiling, or sad, or pleading. It was just some natural conversation switch.

“What?” I shook my head briskly, as if by causing brain injury I might be able to understand her. “Why are you asking? I mean, how did that come up?”

“It’s just, you might feel better. We might feel better if we had someone.”

Those eyes. Those floppy ears. Those delicate little lightning-spurting fingers.

“Jyen, my life isn’t perfect right now. I know that. But it’s not going to get any better with the addition of another person,” I stated conclusively.

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

“I know I’ll never be a ballerina, even though I haven’t put on toe shoes. Because I’m not fifty years old,” I said, throwing my arms up. “I’ve been around for a while. I’ve yet to be in a relationship that didn’t have a lot of drama.”

“Maybe you haven’t met the right person,” she said sweetly.

“Maybe,” I said, scrunching my face.

“But what are your plans for the next ten years?”

“Ten years?” I asked incredulously. “I could be dead tomorrow. What’s the point of planning that far ahead? I don’t know what I’m eating for dinner.”

“If you want it enough, it will happen. I believe that.”

“Want what? A relationship? I’m trying to tell you I don’t want one.”

“Then what do you want?”

I paused a good while.

“I want things to be like they were. When Belvaille meant something, even if it was sleazy. And I was, you know, a somebody.”

“That’s it?” she asked, clearly disappointed. “That doesn’t sound very significant.”

“Maybe not to you, but yeah, that’s it. I think I’m joining the resistance.”

I wanted to see Delovoa to at least give the poor guy the stuff I had picked up for him.

The trains were still deactivated over here in the southwest. Not even sure they could be turned on. The few Navy bunkers I saw were abandoned. Presumably they had shifted their men to the populated areas to try and focus against the resistance.

I looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then entered Delovoa’s.

“Hank,” he said, his voice weak from disuse.

I had seen pictures in history lessons of what our primordial ancestors looked like. They seemed to be composed entirely of hair and mud. Delovoa made them look elegant by comparison.

“I got you some things,” I said, putting down the trunk of items. “It’s not a lot, so don’t get your hopes up. They stripped your workshop clean.”

This news hit Delovoa hard. That was basically his life savings, as it were. He was even so distraught he momentarily paused looking through the gear.

“Hey, look what I found,” he said, popping back to life.

And he spoke to ZR3 some word I wasn’t familiar with.

ZR3 responded by spinning its torso around and around as I watched, frightened.

“You’re teaching a Dredel Led to do tricks?”

“I really don’t think it’s a Dredel Led.” He said the word again, and the robot stopped spinning. “That’s ancient Colmarian.”

“How do you know ancient Colmarian?” I asked.

“I don’t. You know the expression, ‘better than to leurdenstae’?”

And at that ZR3 began swiveling its torso again. I couldn’t concentrate well with the robot spinning like a top.

“Uh, sure,” I managed.

“You know what it means?”

I was still transfixed by ZR3.

“Like, at least it’s something.”

“Close. Better than wasting time. Better than going in circles. That’s what ‘leurdenstae’ means.”

And at that word, ZR3 stopped again.

“Fine, but how did you know to say that?”

“I didn’t, I just said it by accident.”

“How do you accidentally say an expression like that?” I asked dubiously.

Delovoa looked a bit embarrassed.

“I think I’ve been…talking to myself lately.” And I let it drop at that, remembering how long he’s been alone. “His name is probably the same. It’s not really ZR3—”

“Yes,” the robot answered dutifully.

“It’s probably some ancient Colmarian word that sounds like that. Who knows what we’re really asking it?”

“Like, ‘say yes’?”

“Sure, or ‘are you powered on?’”

“But why does he have those letters,” I began, not wanting to verbalize them, “written in Colmarian on him? And why is he answering in modern language?”

“That’s just paint. That could have been put there at any time. And maybe the word ‘yes’ didn’t change over the years. Or maybe it means something else.”

This was definitely weird.

“Do you know any other words?” I asked.

“Only a couple. If we were in real space I could maybe tele some research, but out here it’s too far, and my tele is all messed up. Ancient Colmarian had a lot more flourishes and accents than it does now. As we got more and more species we dropped them all until we ended up with simplistic names like ‘Hank.’”

“I think it’s really dangerous talking to this thing, Delovoa.”

“But I’m sure it’s following me because I accidentally said something that sounds like ‘follow me.’ If I can just figure out the counter-command, just a few words, I’ll be rid of it.”

“What if you accidentally say something that sounds like ‘pulverize me’?”

“Well, that would be bad,” Delovoa said quietly. “But you can help on this. Go to the library and look for some books on—”

“Library,” I said, cutting him off. “Where do you think we are?”

“We have a library, I’ve passed it a bunch of times, just never had much of a need for historical works.”