Chapter 21
Dreaming Again
As Scott seated the chair quickly adapted to his body shape and statue. This bar, like most of the bars, had the Sense-A-Shape seating accommodations. The chairs used several video sensors and heat sensors to determine the necessary shape of it’s soon to be occupant. This way it didn’t matter if the sitter was three legged, four legged, wide, narrow, tall, short, had its mammary glands in front or, like some of the bar’s patron, down on their back. The chair would change to whatever is required to accommodate the occupant.
So a nice lady, who just happened to be unusually equipped, didn’t have to order anything special. She didn’t have to say, ‘I need a C-Cup cross your spine back rest with a three legged person’s seat.
No matter who you were, you just pulled out a chair and as you seated yourself it changed to meet your individual requirements.
“When did you, you know, first want to, uh, k-k-kill Coordinators?” Scott asked.
“We don’t really know.” The big Senueian stated flatly. “The last thing we remember is being about two days out from Salibar, in the Baltic Sector, with our holes full of goods. That was two weeks ago and our holes are still full of equipment. The next memory we had was being in the Baltic Sector again without any memory of how or why we were there. It seems we bypassed Salibar by a few days travel, however, the calendar shows us fifteen days later with considerable miles on our vessel. The reason we know this is the fuel load was almost depleted. With the fuel we had on board, we could have made numerous jumps from this sector back and forth to our home base. Evidently we jumped all over the galaxy.” He said this as he waved his three manipulators all around then back and forth over his head indicating multiple directions of jumps.
“Do you have any evidence of where you had traveled or what you did during those lost days?” Scott asked with some considerable anxiety in his voice.
Keogg, eyes swiveling back and forth, stole a glance at his companions and considered this question before replying then he said. “Although I’m not sure if it is any of your business but, in answer to your question, we do have some video evidence of us making our ship ready for an attack on a Coordinator’s vessel.” Keogg shook his head as he continued. “No we did not do this recording on purpose. As I am sure you know, if a commercial vessel arms their defensive weapons on their cargo ship a video recording will start automatically and record the action both inside and outside of their vessel.”
This was the first time Scott saw any register of remorse on the face of the Senueian. His eyes dropped as he paused. Scott knew the video recordings of which he referred. They were developed, early in the 2160’s, to enable the law enforcement agency ability to quickly locate and stop any and all hijackers, those would be space pirates.
Keogg raised his eyes back up and looked at me. “Well, believe it or not, these systems are still in place and they still work. They recorded all our actions while our ship was armed.” Keogg shook one of manipulators back and forth in front of his face as he continued. “I am not proud of what I saw on that recording. We were captured on that video in deep space getting ready to hit this small white Coordinator's ship. You could tell it was a Coordinator’s ship their ship’s logo was highly visible.” Keogg paused. “Thankfully, we didn’t get a chance to attack. In the blink of an eye the small vessel disappeared. After that the video has us just milling around as if we all of a sudden had nothing to do. This lasted for some time before we disarmed which caused the video recording to stop. There were no further events that we know of. The video recording system did not start again during those loss days.
Scott's thoughts had turned inside. That small white vessel, he spoke of, could have been his. Scott excused himself after offering thanks to the crew of the cargo ship. In the galaxy’s routine gesture, he wished them obstacle free space, an unlimited supply of fuel, hazard free docking, happy memories from duty free land falls on many planets and unlimited entertainment. Ok, ok, it was just a simple wave with a single clap of the hands, but that is what it was supposed to mean.
Scott left them as they returned the routine well wishing gesture back at him. That crew, having put the interview behind them, were involved with their continued conversation as Scott left the bar by the front door. He made his way around back and entered again into Jacque’s private booth. Jacque and Scott observed those three individuals for a few more minutes before agreeing that this well was dry.
Scott went back to the bar and set the beer mug back on the bar. He took out his credit disc and swipe it through the reader. As usual it came back denied.
"Jacque, this thing denied my disc again." Scott said as he slid the disc through the reader again.
"How many times I got to done told you, your moneys no good here." Jacque said and waved a push away at Scott as he entered his office.
Scott lay cradled in his small white cocoon, somewhere deep in space, drifting peacefully with absolutely no cares, no worries and no noise. The star patterns were not familiar but that was of no concern. He has plenty of fuel, plenty of food and plenty of useable air. His speed was adequate for safety but not so fast that constellations were lost or even smeared as they pass. Deep space at less than warp speed, things must really be great with the pace he was keeping. His mind was in turmoil as thoughts ran wild. "Where am I headed? Why am I headed there? A small vessel, a two seater appears in the view screen, no advanced signals or warnings were received on board. Ok, ok now I am getting something. The televiewer, ship to ship, a picture is clearing. It’s a-a-ah a girl, a very beautiful girl. I have never seen a girl so lov---- she’s flashing and she’s getting brighter. No, no, hold it, the girl is trying to speak. Stop flashing, stop flashing, why want it quit flashing. She’s gone, the picture is gone but the viewer is still flashing faster and brighter and now it’s starting to buzz as it flashes."
He squinted as he kept his eyes closed, squeezing them trying to avoid the bright light coming from above the bed. He slowly opened one eye viewing the flashing light mounted over his single bunk. He knew this flashing indicated an incoming call and sadly he realized he was not deep in space, he was just lying here on his bunk recovering from a more than vivid dream still planet bound. The televiewer was softly buzzing, no emergency, as the normal prompt blinked on and off on the view screen.
He hit the ‘N’ in response to the questioning, televiewer on “Y or N” prompt. The flashing quit then the face of Lieutenant Callgaurd appeared on the screen showing him sitting behind his desk at police headquarters.
“Good morning Mr. Standard, sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you too early. You asked us to call if there was a significant change in the prisoner you gave us.” The lieutenant paused.
“No, no, it’s ok. I need any information you have. Sleep is like the last thing I am concern with.” Scott responded eagerly.
“The prisoner is for the first time taking nourishment, coherent and talking about his experience. He does not pass out every time he is questioned about those experiences.” Callgaurd paused and then continued.
“You know, this guy seems to be harmless and not at all as aggressive as he was when he was brought in. As a matter of fact, he seems more like a normal person than some type of assassin. I’m sure you would like to question him to some considerable length since you brought him in and you’re the one who knows what he actually did, you’re the only witness.” The lieutenant said and paused, waiting for my reply.
“Give me an hour and I will be down there. Can you have an interrogation room available for me?” Scott asked.
Later that day he was back at the Crown bar having a cool beer with Jacque and discussing the day’s events or lack of events. He had gained nothing from questioning Lacgil, and that was his name. He was a simple farmer with a family. He did not know of or recognize Scott when he confronted him.
The last thing he remembered was boarding a vessel that was supposed to take him to an agricultural convention. He had wave
d goodbye to his family, went on board, stored his gear and went to his assigned cubicle. Lunch was a couple of hours away so he had lain down to take a nap. The next thing he remembered was waking up in a cell here at this local jail. “Hell of a nap.” was his final comment as I closed the interview.
“What could take a simple, fresh off the farm, farmer and turn him into someone who is bent on the destruction of a certain group of people? A group of people he doesn’t know and who he has no complaint with.” Scott rhetorically asked Jacque.
“Not only that, now he’s just a simple farmer with no knowledge of what he had done. The strangest thing about the whole thing is he shows no signs of his being under some unknown influence. What could cause that?”
Jacque just shook his head and they both sipped their beers and quietly reflected on these questions.