The Gay Space Adventure

Chapter 8: Arnie

By the time that I was sure I had finally lost the cops and that deranged loyalist motherfucker, Bernie had also run almost completely out of gas. The fuel gauge needle dipped below the lowest mark like a drowning diver, only a matter of time before it puttered out and sunk completely.

"Well, shit."

By this time, the adrenaline of the chase and escape must have burned out my nerves, because even as I tried to calculate the time I had left before my ship lost power, I could only feel the dull ache of fear that I always did. Maybe it grew a little stronger than usual when I saw the fuel gauge running near empty. But I simply no longer had it in me to panic. Instead, I scanned the void before me through my windshield, to see if there were any planets or space stations in sight. A large glowing orb caught my eye—even from a distance, the phosphorescent planet of Aoli was unmistakable. With a detachedly measured hand, I pulled up the GPS to double check that I could find nothing closer, and then to chart the most direct course.

Aoli was not exactly a safe haven. Far from it, actually. As a Yilronian ally, Aoli's government would be obligated to catch a fugitive deserter and send them back for execution. However, it was far safer than any of the colonies, or drifting without power through a space zone under Yilronian surveillance. So I set my autopilot to land on the surface, and stood to make sure that I had everything in order before I landed—though with one eye always on my windshield and cameras, just in case.

I checked each hiding place to make sure I had put everything where I knew it was secure. My guns I kept, unloaded, stuffed through a slit in the bottom of my mattress, folded up with the rest of the bed into the wall. My ammunition I kept buried in a tub of whipped cream in the back of my minifridge. My fake license plates and other documents I kept hidden under the carpet in the back of my closet. I counted everything, and all was accounted for.

I also counted my money. The dull ache grew again. I had, in my tin of savings, a grand total of 14 fracs and 32 fractals. Not enough for a full tank of fuel—not even enough for half a tank. I'd been depending on that job from Mr. Grieves to get me out of the solar system. I'd never be able to get past the last Yilronian outpost on these... I wouldn't even venture to call them funds.

Fuck my life.

It looked like I would be spending much longer on Aoli than I'd originally thought.

The planet gradually grew larger in the view of my windshield, from a glow-in-the-dark marble to a glow-in-the-dark map of continents, with its cityscapes and natural topography marked in lights of bright and various colors. Closer, too, came the Yilronian satellite station that circled it. A station that I would have to avoid. With my cloaking tech damaged and defenses depleted, all I could do was give the station a wide berth and hope I didn't get caught.

Here, I turned off autopilot and broke the direct path charted to Aoli's nearest city. My eyes flicked, against my will, to the fuel gauge, the needle now a full degree of separation below the lowest mark. I swerved as far as I could from the orbit of the satellite and cut the engine. I held my fake name and my fake ID at the ready. On my dashboard screen, I minimized the GPS application, giving my outside camera footage as much space as possible. Finally, my heart began to beat above the malaise of stress and dull dread smothering me.

I watched the space station.

And I hoped.

No ships launched from the docks. No messages came through my transmission. Eventually, the satellite drifted out of my sight entirely. Soon after, I could feel Bernie speeding up as the pull of Aoli's gravitational field began to propel us toward the surface. Now I turned the key again, firing up the engine and using the last of my fuel to land safely in a field of glowing flowers.

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With Bernie's gas tank completely drained, I had to walk to the nearest town. I made sure to change my license plates before locking up, on the high chance that that loyalist vigilante asshole had recorded and posted my plate number. Him, or the scouts that he'd called to the scene. Then, sure that Bernie was as secure as I could make it, I started my trek toward the low, faint skyline in the distance.

I'd landed on the night side of Aoli, and the phosphorescent flowers were in full glow. I'd rarely had an opportunity to see such vibrant plant life. Yilron's surface was nearly entirely covered by burnt out desert, gray dust and rock long ago drained of its resources and eviscerated by the battles that ensued in the resulting shortages. Even after leaving, I'd spent most of my time on space stations, all parking lots and metal grating. The Aolian countryside was... beautiful. With the cool night air, the black sky above empty of all but stars—that damned satellite had crossed to the other side of the horizon, thank the Hells—and the fields around me alight with color and the scent of foliage, I felt almost calm for the first time in days. I was actually glad for the length of the walk, over an hour alone in a meadow of flowers.

The town itself was smaller than I would have liked. Cities were easy to hide in, easy to walk the streets unnoticed, just an insignificant face in the crowd. Nothing to see here. Cities tended to have thriving undergrounds, and people with connections to them, that made it easy to find work without needing an ID or official paperwork. I knew how to survive in a city. I had no idea how to make it in a small town like this.

The town was big enough to have a trolley system. It was a real old-style system, too, with tracks embedded into the roads and wires criss-crossing above to guide the neon-decorated cars. I was tempted to hitch a ride, just to do it, but the prices were all in Aolian currency, and I didn't dare pull out my Yilronian coins. I did grab a map from the station, though, for future reference, before following by foot alongside the tracks.

Despite the seemingly late hour, the streets were relatively busy. I stuck out like a sore thumb among the largely Aolian population. I was at least a foot taller than most of them, and lacking in big batlike ears or glowing patterns on my skin. But at least I wasn't the only foreigner here: a few other humans walked the sidewalks, and a Paronian couple sat on a bench across the street. Hopefully my presence wouldn't be too notable.

Most of the shops, though, appeared to be closed: dark windows in the dark night, only illuminated by the neon reflections from the trolleys outside. Which was weird. I'd always heard that Aoli, because of its long day and night cycles—lasting for half a Yilronian year each—had a double-day system, with one half of the populus waking as the other went to sleep, so that businesses and factories could run perpetually. But as shopkeepers exited their stores and workers started heading home, no one seemed to be taking their place.

Huh.

Luckily for me, the mechanic shop was still open when I walked by—and with a help wanted sign in the window to boot! I slipped in quick as I could, before I missed the purple-striped Aolian man at the desk packing up his papers. His ears perked up at the opening of the door.

"Hey. Hi. I, uh, saw you had a help wanted sign—"

"Oh, yeah, we're kind of closing up right now. Are you interested?"

"I would be, yeah. Do you have any third shift positions?"

The mechanic shook his head. "Sorry, kid. If you're looking for someplace on the second cycle, McMick's glowbulb factory's your best bet. It's a bit of a ways out of town..."

"That's alright." Factories were usually more diligent about paperwork. "I can stop by tomorrow. Do I need to bring anything?"

The mechanic looked me up and down. I kept my face as unsuspecting as possible, maintaining my best approximation of a hopeful smile. The glance was over in an instant, and either this guy was a really good actor or he hadn't been thinking of anything more than sizing up a possible job candidate. It was always safer to assume the former.

"Nah, just yourself."

...Right then. I'd bring my gun.