Bypass Gemini

Chapter 14

The uniform provided was a khaki ensemble, loaded down with pockets and bearing a patch with “TRAINEE” written in bold capital letters. Combined with the wide brimmed hat that accompanied it, wearing it made him feel like the tour guide on a safari ride. He’d had more dignified outfits, but at this point a tutu would have been an improvement over the flight suit, which he was fairly sure was beginning to ferment. The shower and change of clothes, though recuperative, didn’t do much to do away with the alcoholic stupor he’d managed to achieve. Either that rum had more of a kick than he was used to or he really was a lightweight. He sat on the edge of a bunk, scratched at his unshaven face, and sorted through the facts.

“Let’s see. I’m on an out-of-the-way planet, being essentially held prisoner by a well educated sociopath, sitting in borrowed clothes on a bunk in an empty dormitory... again. This is a weird little rut my life seems to have gotten into,” he muttered, “But on the plus side, a pretty lady said she’d rather me be a slave than a corpse. I’ve got that going for me.”

“Alexander,” growled Hendricks.

The sudden comment startled Lex’s sluggish mind, causing him to slip off the edge of the bed.

“God! Were you there the whole time? You didn’t watch me shower, did you?”

“Mr. Patel wants you,” he stated, ignoring the question.

“I’ll bet he does. This is something I’m going to have to get used to, isn’t it? On call, 24-7.

“On Operlo it is 35-9. Get moving.”

“You use a different number of days in the week?” Lex said, bundling up his belongings and tucking them under his arm, “Now you’re just being contrary.”

“Move!”

“Okay, okay!”

Hendricks quickly ushered him out of the complex and into the harsh sun, where the silly looking hat suddenly became well appreciated. It may not have been fashionable, but it certainly kept the burning rays off of his face. He was brought to a slightly better cared for hover cart and driven to his borrowed ship, which was surrounded by a small work crew bearing hefty looking tools and irritated expressions. Nicholas Patel was among them. He wore a similar hat and a pair of sunglasses, as well as a glossy black gadget that wrapped around the back of his neck like a collar. Miss Misra was standing beside him and was similarly equipped. They, notably, were the only ones who weren’t sweating in the baking heat.

“Mr. Alexander!” Patel said brightly.

“You called? And what’s with the fancy neck gear?”

“A blood conditioner. Chills the blood passing through the carotid artery, as I understand it. Quite effective at combating the heat.”

“Man. Rich people get all of the best toys.”

“Rich people get all of the best everything, Mr. Alexander. It is the primary motivator for becoming rich. And speaking of toys, I tip my hat to you, sir. You’ve got an excellent security system in place,” he remarked.

“Do I?”

“Indeed. My men here tried all of the usual methods to pop the cockpit, and received repeated warnings about... What was the wording, Preethy?”

“Utilization by individuals with level 2 access or lower is not permitted,” she supplied, after a glimpse at her datapad.

“When they shifted to more direct methods of access, the ship powered up, electrified the hull, and warned of self destruction.”

“It is also attempting to establish a secure communications link,” his assistant added.

“Wow. High class stuff.”