The Four Baristas: Double Shot

Chapter 14

As the sirens grew ever louder, Mel extracted a chair from a nearby pile of wreckage, set it upright on the floor, dusted it off and then—without the slightest hint of concern—took a seat. She looked over at Kiko. "It's funny, isn't it?"

Her open, wide-eyed features uncharacteristically anxious, the young Alpha Centaurian turned from the shattered window she'd been peering through as she waited for the first visible signs of the imminent trouble the sirens heralded. To the best of her reckoning Mel was now guilty of assault and battery, vandalism, disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, quite possibly airspace violations (given the trajectory and velocity of her latest victim), insurrection and rioting, plus who knew how many other more obscure Rigellian rules and regulations, and while Kiko herself hadn't committed any of those crimes, she had a very strong suspicion that guilt by association was a concept the Rigellians would be pretty comfortable with.

Separated from their ship, alone and unarmed, the two of them were on a world far from both their homes, a world conquered and ruled by the most warlike, short-tempered and heavily armed race in the galaxy—and they (well, Mel) had just done more or less everything they possibly could to really, seriously, thoroughly annoy said race.

"Funny?" she echoed, faintly.

"Yeah," replied Mel. "It's funny how your perspective changes, some times. This last little while I'd been thinking the only possible way I could deal with Cam's disappearance was to search for him. You know—that having lost something I love, the only option I had was to look for it. Until I found it—or him. Simple."

Despite the extremity of the situation, Kiko found herself intrigued. This was probably the longest statement she'd heard from Mel in the entire time she'd known her—never the mind being the most introspective. She took a step towards her friend. "And what are you thinking now?"

Staring into space, the ghost of a smile playing on her features, it was a moment before Mel replied. "I'm thinking perhaps I've been acting a little crazy. That maybe setting out on a several million year long quest is just a bit delusional. And that I might need to accept"—she swallowed—"Cam is gone and find a more constructive way to use my time and my...my talents."

"Oh, Mel." Tearing up a little, Kiko squeezed the barista's shoulder. "I know it's hard to let go—and I'll be with you all the way if you decide to keep searching—but I think you're right. It's a great big galaxy out there, and no matter how determined you might be, you can't search it all. You just might end up wasting your life, and I'm sure Cam wouldn't want that. You're capable of so much more."

"I am." Mel stood. "Starting today—right now—there's no more moping. No more ferreting around in the galaxy's darkest corners. No more fart-arsing about. It's time to do something with my life."

Kiko clapped her hands and gave a squeal of delight. "Eeeee! How exciting. Oh, there's so many wonderful things you might do. There's a whole galaxy of opportunities—I should know, I've tried ever so many of them. You could study at one of the ancient universities of Achernar, or go on a pilgrimage to see the Perspicacious Philosophers of Polaris, or dive the depths of the Denebolan Darkwaters, or sample some of the epicurean delights of Vega or do any of a million other scrumptious things. And I can show you them all. Ooh, where to start? Eeee—"

Testament to her experience with the length and volume of these outbursts, Mel put an end to it with the simple but expedient method of putting her hand over Kiko's mouth. "Look, while I appreciate the sentiment—and the enthusiasm—there something I need to say, if I can just get a few words in. Firstly, have you forgotten our little talk about the squealing? Secondly, I've already figured out what I'm going to do with my life. And thirdly—Vegan food? Eeew."