Tevun-Krus #71 - Spy-Fi

Happy Hour - A Short Story by @jinnis

Happy Hour

By jinnis

I had no inkling about farming when I applied for the job on Aquarius 7. Honesty, working a kelp farm didn't sound like a dream job. But I'd learned the hard way most dream jobs turn into nightmares faster than ice melts in a high-powered drink. And that happens pretty fast on Berill. Or, more precisely, in Southern Sunset, the bar I'd been tending these last months—another thing that turned from heaven to hell in the blink of an eye.

So, presented with the opportunity to leave the embarrassment of a lifetime behind, I jumped it. No use trying to argue with the boss after I'd hit on his daughter's fiancé by accident. Or explain the malfunction of a tap was to blame I drenched the young man with Berillian squint. How could I know the unfortunate victim of the alcoholic shower would take this as a marriage proposal?

When I emerged after several days from the drunken state of bliss I'd shared with the groom, I found the prospective bride in tears and her father fuming. And myself in need of a new job. He proved to be one boss who cannot draw a line between his employees' private life and the job.

Freshly fired, I didn't wait for my accidental partner in crime to wake up. He looked like he needed more time to recover, despite his bulk and impressive height. I found him adorable, with the golden glowing skin and the stubby horns on his brow, still covered in juvenile bast. But Ani was Tacturnian. Aside from interesting mating rituals and low tolerance of alcohol, his people are renowned for a strict code of honour. I decided I could do without the backlash our little adventure would cause.

Meanwhile, the pangalactic job market still lacked choices for a major in human literature and history. I swallowed my pride and signed the contract for Aquarius 7.

~ ~ ~

Three days later, I found myself and my single suitcase on the shuttle. I'd packed everything I valued and left behind the rest. Including a bunch of memories, not all of them bad. Problem was, I'd enjoyed Ani's company, even if I doubted he'd gathered as much as my gender. Probably he was glad I left when he sobered up.

I spent the flight in hibernation. It was the easiest way to escape the reality of being stuffed into a shuttle with dozens of perspiring prospective farmhands like sardines into a tin can. Only luxury liners offer enough room and entertainment to keep passengers happy. I lacked the cash to travel legally on one of those. The best deal was cryopods, stacked in the cargo bay of a freighter for the transfer.

~ ~ ~

Aquarius wasn't as bad as it seemed at first sight. The job was boring, but things brightened when I found the local pub. Eight hours conducting the kelp harvester, four hours in the Swordfish, and a solid eight hours' sleep in my habitation bubble floating in the artificial atoll made up my day.

True, the farm didn't offer much entertainment. I found time to catch up on reading. Every worker earned the right to a week off in the capital after a three-month shift. My first holiday was still a distant dream when we got an interesting new arrival. Her presence dominated the pub, purple scales gleaming in the low light and silver eyes rapidly blinking. I'd never encountered this species before. Don, the barkeep, called me over.

"Hey Bo, meet Samantha, our new assistant agricultural researcher."

For an alien, she was attractive. But I wasn't really in the mood for another fling: my last one still haunted my dreams. Yes, it sounds stupid, but it's the way it was. I blamed the Tacturnian pheromones, ordered a beer, and sat down two seats away from Samantha.