Skeleton Crew

Chapter 7: A Table for Two

The morning came, and the air monitor continued to blink blue when Kanti turned it on. He went to work, and soon the drudgery of operating a dozer replaced the fading terror and worry from the night before.

“Here you go, Saina,” Tish said, tapping her phone against Kanti’s.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, staring at the number. It wasn’t enough. Well, it was enough to pay rent, but that was about it. After settling his rent, he’d be reduced to eating in the mess hall every night until his next paycheck. There just wasn’t enough left for groceries.

Kanti desperately needed a raise. He put a paw over his eyes. Actually, he needed Saina to get a raise, since his boss thought Kanti was Saina. Saina was never going to get a raise.

What a mess.

Truthfully, he reminded himself, the problem wasn’t Saina. His problem was really the apartment. Despite the apartment’s location on an undesirable deck, it was a large enough place for a couple of small families to share. And here he was, keeping it all to himself.

He needed to give it up, but if he did, could he ever get another? Was he brave enough to sign a lease? A far safer move was sharing the apartment with a family – or two. If he could just share the rent, then he’d have lots of credits left over each month.

But how?

There was no room in the apartment for anyone else; not unless he could get his mom’s junk hauled away. Weekly trash pick-up would only take a maximum of two bags per address, and he needed to get rid of … Kanti’s brain froze up trying to imagine how many bags it would take to empty the place. A thousand? Ten thousand? He had no idea.

Why did you do this to me, Mom? It was a pointless question. He knew the answer. His mother was always a “collector” – she got irate if you ever said “hoarder” in her presence – but when her mate died, the collecting got way out of control. Every day, Kanti came home from work to find more and more junk piled up on top of the old junk.

Kanti needed to rent a truck. Then he could drive loads of trash down to the recycler himself.

He stared at the number on his phone again.

He couldn’t afford a truck.

“You are the only guy I know,” Saina chuckled, “who can look tragic on pay-day.” He put his arm around Kanti’s shoulders.

“It’s not enough,” Kanti mumbled, still staring at the phone.

“No, it never is!” Saina laughed. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Kanti shook his head and started walking out of Recycler Bay 2. “Thanks, but no. I’m headed to the mess hall to grab some chow. ‘Going out’ isn’t in the budget this week.”

With his arm around his friend’s shoulders, Saina turned Kanti away from the door. Apart from the vast difference in shape, the pair could be brothers. They were the same height, had the same eyes and similar ears. Saina had the smooth coat and Kanti had the scruffy one.

Saina led Kanti out of the blue zone and onto the orange deck.

Kanti looked nervously around and let out an unconscious chitter. Supervisors permitted the workers to step paw into the orange zone, but there was a procedure to follow. Everyone knew that you had to log it into Taskmaster and get an “all clear” before you could leave your dozer.

The computer kept careful track of all the dozers on deck. If an operator ignored Taskmaster’s warnings and drove too close to an area containing a pedestrian, the system automatically shut down the vehicle’s ignition as a precaution. Although it would be hard to miss the sound of an approaching dozer, that wasn’t enough to ensure a worker’s safety in the orange zone if he got out of his dozer. He needed the computer to know he was there. Workers couldn’t count on being spotted by an operator before being reduced from “crew member” to the less-desirable classification of “organics.”

“Stop being such a mewling cub,” Saina grunted. “I gotta’ show you something.”

He led Kanti out to the distant corner of the deck, where workers stacked aluminum scrap into evenly-spaced heaps that towered five meters tall at their peak. “I chose a spot as far away from the organics as possible, so the smell wouldn’t be so bad,” he explained.

Hidden behind the very last heap was a cozy, little grotto containing two soiled but comfortable-looking chairs, a huge spool of tubing that substituted for a table, and a contraption made of pots and tubes.

Kanti stared for many long moments with jaw agape.

“Well?” Saina nudged him with an elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve lost your mind,” the shaggy geroo replied. “What’s going to happen when someone rolls through here with a dozer to gather all the aluminum?”

Saina shrugged. “Everything in life is fleeting. But for now, you and I have our own little, private club.” With the twist of a valve, the chubby young geroo filled a cracked mug from the still. “Cocktail?” he asked with a grin.

Kanti looked around once more, but there was no one else in the sector. He reluctantly accepted the cup with a smile, set his phone on the table, and tried to relax into one of the chairs.

The geroo were never without their phones. They were more than just a means of communication, the devices acted as their money, their keys, their records, and their access to the network. Since the departure of the White Flower II, phones came to symbolize the “connectedness” of all the geroo aboard.

It wasn’t surprising, perhaps, that removing your phone in private company became more than just a custom. It was expected etiquette – a way of saying, “you have my attention.”

Saina poured himself a mug.

“I looked for you when I finished dancing with Jasmi,” Saina said, “but you and her friend had vanished.” He grinned and winked. “What was her name? The white-furred gal with the cute brown spot?” He motioned a finger around one of his eyes.

Kanti shrugged. “No idea.”

Saina yarped a loud laugh. “You rogue! I had no idea…”

“She bailed the moment I tried talking to her,” Kanti said, deflating Saina’s grin. “I went home alone.”

Saina sighed and tapped his mug against Kanti’s. They both drank.

Kanti shuddered involuntarily and tried to blink back the tears. He felt as if his throat were on fire.

“Smooth, huh?” Saina said, smacking his lips. “The fruit I used was … well, way past its prime, but distillation should kill any germs…”

Kanti stared at him, trying to form words. He wondered how many brain cells this swill just killed. “Have you tried using it as a degreaser?” he gasped at long last.

Saina grinned and refilled the mugs.

Kanti thanked him and stared a long time at the clear liquid in his mug without braving another taste. “How long have we been friends?”

Saina shrugged. “Dunno’. Three years? Four?”

Kanti sighed, and Saina stared at him. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” the scruffy geroo admitted, “well, from the whole ship, really.”

Saina got up to fiddle with the still.

“And I feel really bad about it. You’re my best friend … my only friend.” He turned to stare at Saina, but the chubby geroo didn’t appear to be paying attention. He sighed.

Saina’s phone began to chime, and Kanti grumbled to himself about the interruptions. He glanced over at the display. “Someone named ‘Chendra’?”

Saina shook his head and continued to adjust the tubing.

The chimes continued.

“Aren’t you gonna’ answer that?”

“Hells, no.” Saina shook his head again. “You can talk to her if you want. 15113.”

Kanti stared at the phone as it blinked and chimed. For some weird reason, it irritated him. No one ever called him. Saina was the only one to ever send him a message, and that was usually just where to meet him for drinks. He grabbed the phone and punched in Saina’s access code, ready to bark at the caller that Saina was too busy to talk.

The name was replaced with an image of the most beautiful geroo that Kanti had ever seen. She had smooth, brown fur; large, brown eyes; small ears; and high cheekbones. Kanti instantly forgot how to form words.

The girl looked as shocked as Kanti did. “Oh, my goodness! You picked up! I was just going to leave you another message.”

Kanti just stared. He smiled a little at her. Her eyes sparkled at him.

“You look great! I mean, really, really great!”

“I… I do?” he gasped.

She beamed happily at him and nodded, then noticed the heap of aluminum behind him. “Are you at work? I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just going to leave a message and see if you’d come over for dinner on the fifth.”

A text prompt appeared on the screen that read, “Dinner @ Chendra on the 5th. Confirm?”

Saina’s head popped up, and he waved his arms emphatically. No! he mouthed, but Kanti wasn’t paying him any attention.

“I’d love to!” Kanti said, happily making a little circle gesture around the text prompt; adding the event to the calendar.

“Really?!? Oh my goodness!” Chendra nearly shouted into the phone.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the whole ship.” He smiled the largest smile that he could ever recall.

Saina slapped his forehead with both paws.

“Okay, I won’t keep you. I’ll see you on the fifth!”

“Great, it’s a date!”

The screen went dark with a message about the call being terminated, and Kanti continued to stare at the screen in a daze.

“What the hells was that for?” Saina shouted after a long pause.

“Huh, what?” Kanti mumbled. His mouth moved, but his brain had not yet engaged.

“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me, but setting me up to visit Chendra isn’t funny!” He broke a piece off the still and stared at it in his paw. “Arrgh!” he shouted.

Kanti stared at Saina’s phone. The new appointment flashed to remind Saina of the event he scheduled.

“What the hells is wrong with me?” Kanti mumbled, burying his face in his paws.

The pair hung out in silence for a while, waiting for Saina’s degreaser to lighten the mood.

Saina finally spoke up. “You don’t need to tell me your ‘secret.’ I already know.”

Kanti’s ears shot up. “You … you do?”

Saina nodded. “I think everyone’s suspected it. You never go out on dates. You never even look at females.”

“What? Um, wait, what?” Kanti struggled. “Yes, I do!”

“It’s okay, buddy, I won’t judge you. We can find a guy you like, instead.”

“No! I’m not gay!” Kanti shouted. “I’m illegal!” He slapped a paw over his mouth and looked around, terrified that someone else might have heard him.

Saina seemed unfocused and confused. “Um, what?” He scratched at his chin. “Like a fugitive?”

“No,” Kanti whispered. “I was never supposed to be born.”