Generations Dead End
24 Jan 2018MMMMMalcolm
I awoke startled and a little disoriented. I didn’t have a dream per se, but my mind was racing. Where was I, did he not die in the explosions, why can’t I move, what’s that scent in my nose, was he trying to gas me? One by one the answers came to me. I was back in Sol in a hotel room. Yes the operative from ‘The Club’, my old guardian, was dead. I had no need to worry about him. Whether or not his replacement comes looking for me was a different story though. I couldn’t move because Kay was lying on my chest. Her lavender scented hair tickling my nose was what woke me up.
I wrapped my left arm around her and she nestled in closer. My first few weeks of freedom have started out pretty good. I secured ownership of the fleet without raising any suspicions. I created a Galnet mission board and received some positive feedback from fellow pilots. And, Kay and I successfully completed our first mission off that board. We not only succeeded, we were able to give Ms. Kyndi (Boy was it interesting watching Kay say that.) the coordinates of the “Malmoneta” ahead of schedule.
Also, it turned out “Little Man’s” real name was Napoleon Sinclair. I wasn’t surprised. He and his band of Oopah-Loopahs were members of Black Omega and worth over half a million credits in bounties. We left Pegasi over 700k credits richer. That’s part of the reason Kay chose to stay here with me, to celebrate.
The other reason was she was avoiding her family who lived not too far away on the earth’s surface. Not so much her father; she adored the man. Her and her mother have some sort of falling out I don’t understand. I told her she was being petty and needed to appreciate the fact she had parents who loved her. Nearly ruined our celebration. I dropped the subject and we resumed concentrating on each other.
But Kay’s situation reminded me of my own goal to find my real parents, and I decided I had stalled long enough. Sure I had no clue where to begin, but I wasn’t going to let that be an excuse anymore. I will either work around the new requests on my mission board or they will just have to wait if they conflicted. One way or the other I was going to find my parents, and I was going to find them right now.
I glanced at the clock. It was ten a.m. Earth time.
I gently nudged Kay off of me. She protested but complied; rolling onto her side with her back toward me.
“Get up sleepy head,” I said as I sat on the side of the king-size bed. “You’re getting soft. Normally you would have been up three hours ago, hitting something. Oww!”
“There, I hit something. Sounds like you’re the one who’s soft.”
I plodded to the bathroom rubbing my arm. “Do you want room service or would you prefer to eat out?”
“I wouldn’t mind you eating me out again,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What?” I called over the now running shower. “I didn’t hear you.”
“We might as well eat out. You’re not going to let me sleep.”
I stepped into the shower; the steam and hot water melting away my morning tension. Or they would have if Kay didn’t bring her mocha skinned body in with me. She blocked off all the hot water, leaving me at the back of the shower with little to do but watch as she bent over, rubbed against me, and lathered her long legs with honey and vanilla shower gel.
“Um, excuse me, do you mind?”
She stood, ignored me, and slowly rubbed soap on her behind before moving her hands to her front, working her way up to her neck.
"Hey, if you're going to get me up, it's totally fair if I reciprocate in kind."
“Ok, if that’s the way you wanna play. I’ll play.”
I stepped up behind her pushing her under the water; firm against her softness. She pressed back, wiggling against me.
“Took you long enough.” Was her only reply.
Taking each of her soapy hands in mine, I slowly worked them back down the front of her body; from her neck, lingering over, between, and under each breast, tracing the muscles in her abdomen, down to her thighs. I flirted with moving our hands between them, only to pull away, sliding soap along her outer hips and thighs.
“You tease,” Kay gently accused, then moved my hands back up to her shoulders. In one fluid motion she bent forward, reached behind, and with one hand guided me in while she cleared the way with the other. We both gasped and fell into a pleasurable rhythm that did very little to get either of us clean.
Eventually we did get clean and dressed, but not before we missed breakfast, brunch, and nearly lunch. We wasted so much time; I decided the best compromise would be to eat in the hotel café. After the waitress brought our lunch, I told Kay what was on my mind.
“I want to start looking for my parents today.”
“Ok,” she replied before taking a bite of her turkey club sandwich.
“Only, I don’t know where to start.”
She swirled a french fry in some ketchup. “Start with what you know. Your last name is Goodwin. Your birthday was June 19, 3274. For twelve years you lived on Earth with a Mr. and Mrs. Tom and Nancy Simmons.” She inhaled the fry, washed it down with some lemonade, and picked up two more.
“I chased down all those leads and they all lead to a dead end. Galnet has no record of a Malcolm Goodwin born in New London in 3274. Neither does the Federation Social Services have a record of a Malcolm Goodwin anywhere in their system. I was able to get a last known address for Mr. and Mrs. Simmons, but…” I trailed off staring at my untouched hamburger.
“But what?” Kay pressed.
“The data is over ten years old, what if they moved? I haven’t seen them in over sixteen years, what if they’ve forgotten me or worse, what if they hate me?”
“All of those are excuses of a scared little boy.” She said before looking around and leaning in across our café table. “And I’m not one to molest, in my shower, scared little boys.” She sat back sipping her lemonade. She was right and it made no sense. I could face secret society operatives and blood thirsty pirates, but I piss my pants when it came time to face an elderly couple? I shook my head.
“Where’s the address?” Kay asked.
“New London,” I replied.
“Finish your lunch so we can go pay them a visit.”
London hadn’t changed much in over a thousand years. The river Thames still ran under the well maintained London Bridge and past the preserved ‘Big Ben’ and ‘London Eye’. Historic landmarks like Buckingham Palace and other stone buildings still fought for space and guided travelers among the steel and glass skyscrapers popping up around them. If it weren’t for the modes of transportation and the fashion trends, you could time travel someone from the year 2018 to “New London” and they wouldn’t believe your time-machine actually worked. Even the weather was the same; cold, wet, and miserable.
When our hover taxi stopped, I stepped out into the rain, opened an umbrella for Kay, and then opened her door to let her out. I sighed. I knew exactly where I was. I can’t tell you the number of times I walked up this walk, to this four story home; one of many attached homes along this block. Kay took my hand and I added another experience to my memories of coming home from school, or the doctor, or the barber, or more recently, being escorted by police.
I rang the bell. No answer. After a moment, I rang the bell again. Crap, I should have told the taxi to wait. After a moment, I rang the bell a third time. It’s gonna suck walking all the way back in the rain. I was just about to suggest we start walking back downtown, when a gust of wind from the weather cracked the red door open.
Kay and I exchanged anxious looks before cautiously going inside. I was really loathing the system personal weapon prohibition. I try to obey the law as best I can, but I began to wonder how long it would be before I started to ignore that one.
It was late afternoon and the overcast skies and the closed drapes allowed little light in the house. Kay quickly found a light switch. I soon wished she hadn't. The place looked like a hurricane hit it; like whoever tossed the place was determined to break whatever the touched. Not even the bathrooms were spared as cabinets were ripped from the walls and smashed on the floors.
My heart raced as I rushed from the study, to the den, and then the kitchen; every possible place I thought Tom and Nancy would be. I ran upstairs. I ignored the second floor as that was mainly where mine and the guest rooms were. The master suite occupied most of the third floor. I pushed wide the already opened master double doors and froze. There on the floor between the sitting room and the bedroom was Tom Simmons. He had been shot once in the head. His body was partially covered by broken possessions, but I knew he died trying to protect Nancy. I stepped past his body into a similar scene in the bedroom; stuff thrown everywhere. I finally found Nancy wedged between the bed and the wall. She had been shot three times; twice in her side and once in her hand that she raised to shield herself from the inevitable. It was futile of course as the bullet went straight through her hand, her head, and the wall behind.
I slid down the wall beside her and violently sobbed. Who would do this and why? They were the nicest couple on the block. Shoot they were the nicest couple on the planet. They would have given the clothes off their backs to anyone, killing them made no sense.
Kay came up, cleared a small space, and sat down beside me. She didn't say anything. She didn't try to hold me. None of it would have mattered anyway. I wouldn't have heard her words. I couldn't have felt her sympathy. All I felt was a deep burning desire for revenge.