Drax, Gemora, and the Really Bad Donuts
Even in extremely strange places, treasures might be found.
[Author's Note: This story takes place several weeks after the story Gemora Learns To Dance.]
"I don't like rentals," said Drax.
"I'm sure they don't like you either," said Gemora.
"It's making a funny beeping sound," said Drax. "It has been doing it ever since we took it out of the parking lot."
"I don't hear anything," said Gemora, as she took the little ship down.
"Perhaps that is because you have very small ears, and much too much hair," said Drax. "Now explain to me what we are doing on ... what is this planet called again?"
"Terra," said Gemora. "Earth, to the locals. It is where Quill comes from. He was taken from here about twenty years ago by a Ravager ship."
"Terra," mused Drax. "Isn't that an out-Zone planet? They have yet to develop proper space travel. And have nothing that anyone wants."
"As it happens, they do have something," said Gemora. "Something only available here."
"Which is?" said Drax.
Gemora mumbled something.
"A what?' said Drax.
She mumbled it again, louder.
"A what?" said Drax, also louder.
"A tape player!" said Gemora. "A machine for ... playing ... tapes. Of the musical type."
"Ah, I see," said Drax. "No, I do not."
Gemora sighed. "It is a technology so antiquated and clumsy that it is not known in the civilised galaxy," she said. "But we need one. Since the one that was on Ship ... broke. Was broken."
"Ah," said Drax. "And how did that occur?"
Gemora sighed again. "These things happen," she said. She had no desire to tell Drax that it had been broken by her. When she was dancing. Alone. Enthusiastically. He would not understand. Or perhaps he would. Which might be worse.
She set the little rented ship down in a grove of trees, where it would be hidden from view.
"Where are we going?" said Drax.
"There is a large city not far away," said Gemora. "Called Chicago."
"What a foolish name," said Drax.
"Now remember, we have to blend in," said Gemora. "I have done research on this. I have money that is suitable for this place, and I have brought appropriate clothes for you. You will have to wear a shirt."
"What is a shirt?" said Drax.
Gemora sighed once more and threw one at him. After a while, he worked it out. Had some trouble with the buttons. Too complicated for him.
She believed that the clothes she was wearing would be suitable. But she would have to do something about her colour. She had brought a Cosmetiser – not something she was usually familiar with – for the purpose. She attached it to the back of her neck, as per the instructions, and pushed a button. Her skin went whitish-pink, like Peter's.
"I do not like it," said Drax. "You look like a Xandarian. Pasty."
She pushed another button and her skin went dark, a caramel-chocolate sort of colour.
"Do you have blue?" said Drax.
"I don't do blue," said Gemora.
"Pity," said Drax. "Tell me once more, woman, why am I here? I can understand that you might want a companion, but why not the tree thing or the creepy little beast?"
"You really don't get the idea of fitting in, do you?"
"Or why not Quill?"
Gemora said nothing.
"Ah," said Drax. "He does not know that his tape playing machine was broken."
Gemora gave a tiny nod. "It means there is a deadline," she said. "We have to find one, get back, and install it before he tries to play something. So we don't want any trouble here. Don't get into any fights, don't get drunk, don't ... well, try to not be Drax for a while. In any case, these people are very simple. So we can't take any weapons. We're not supposed to upset their path of technological development."
"A knife would do that?"
"Let's not take any chances."
Drax grunted. "I will feel naked without my blades," he said.
"That is why you have a shirt," said Gemora.
"You say they do not have space travel, these people?" said Drax.
They were standing on a street in Chicago, having caught a bus into the city. They were looking up at a large picture. It appeared to show Terrans fighting large robots of some sort. Across the bottom was written: Directed by Michael Bay.
"Perhaps our information is out of date," mused Gemora. "Now, how do we find a store that sells tape players?"
Drax sniffed the air.
"I do not think that will do it," said Gemora.
But Drax was already moving, following his nose. Gemora had no choice but to follow.
They came to a little kiosk. It was the source of the aroma. There was a man wearing a peculiar hat selling things.
"Whatever it is, I want some," said Drax to him.
"Sugared or cinnamon?" said the guy.
"Yes," said Drax.
"How many?"
"A hundred. To start."
"Uh, I only sell in packets of six. They're donuts, man, not jelly beans. Although you look like you could put away a hundred."
"Then I will have six," said Drax. The guy gave him a packet and Gemora gave him some money. She had to admit that these donut objects did smell very tasty. She wondered who it was who cut the hole in the middle. So she had one. Drax had the other five. Then another packet. He put a donut into his shirt pocket – "for later".
"These are wonderful," he said to the man with the hat. "And what else did you say you had? Jelly beans?"
"We do not have time for you to stuff yourself," said Gemora. She turned to the donut-seller. "Where can we obtain a machine for playing musical tapes?" she said.
"Tapes? That's pretty old tech. A museum, maybe. Or there's a store that sells i-stuff around the corner. You can try there."
She set off. But then she realised that Drax was still at the donut stand, talking to the guy. She went back and dragged him away.
"He told me how to make them!" said Drax. "Do you believe that!? We could be rich!"
"We already have jobs," said Gemora. "We're the Guardians of the Galaxy, remember?"
"Wait, you mean we get paid for that?" said Drax.
They came to a store with a lot of electrical equipment, and went in. A woman came up to them.
"Can I help you with something?" she said.
"Do you sell donuts?" said Drax.
"Only what you see, big guy," she said. She looked more closely at Gemora. "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look like that actress, what's her name, she was in that thing where she was blue. Chloe Sultana or something."
"Why, yes, they have," said Gemora. "And I would like a tape player, please."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Sorry – " she began to say.
"What is that smell?" said Drax, sniffing the air again.
"Perhaps it is the donut in your pocket," said Gemora.
"No, it is definitely an unpleasant smell," said Drax. "I have smelled it before. It was on Ch'Paro. A planet of truly ugly creatures. Big, not smart but quite strong."
Gemora felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She could sense something. Something ... dangerous. She glanced around.
"Looking for me?" said a familiar voice.
"Nebula," breathed Gemora.
"Yes, dear sister," said Nebula.
"Great ink you've got there," said the woman who worked in the store to her.
Nebula pulled a long blade from a sheath and pointed it at her. "Go away," she said.
"If you insist," said the woman, quickly retreating. Everyone else in the store suddenly decided they had to be somewhere else too.
"How did you get here?" said Gemora.
"We've been following you since you picked up that ship," said Nebula. "The clerk there recognised you, contacted me, and then installed a tracking device."
"I told you that something was beeping," said Drax to Gemora.
Gemora realised that there was a big ... person ... standing behind Nebula. Extremely unpleasant-looking. He was even bigger than Drax. And, yes, he did have a rather noxious scent to him.
"This is my ... minion," said Nebula, gesturing to the Ch'Paro. "He is called Scum."
"What a foolish name," said Drax.
Scum growled at him. He pulled an extremely large blaster from a holster.
"I did not think you ever accepted help," said Gemora to Nebula.
Nebula held up her left hand. It was artificial. Which is to say, more artificial than the rest of her.
"I am still getting used to this, which you are so kindly responsible for," she said. "Until then, Scum is ... handy."
Drax burst into laughter.
"Er, why are you laughing?" said Nebula.
" 'Handy'!" said Drax. "Don't you get it?"
"Uh, no," said Nebula.
Scum started to chuckle. "Hand – ee," he grunted. "I get it."
Nebula looked at him. "Shut up," she said.
"Hand – ee," said Scum again, laughing more.
"I don't get it either," said Gemora.
And then Drax moved. There was a tall shelf of equipment behind him, and in a moment he turned and pulled it over. A cascade of DVD players and iPads fell over Nebula and Scum.
Then Gemora and Drax were running. They were out of the store and racing along the busy street. They turned a corner, still running, and then another.
They stopped and looked back.
"Without weapons, we have no chance against them," said Gemora.
"Perhaps we escaped from them in the crowd," said Drax.
Then a bolt from a blaster smashed into the building next to them.
"Or not," said Drax.
They began to run again.
Then Drax stopped, looking at a building across the street.
"Did not the donut man say that we might obtain a tape playing machine in a museum?" he said. He pointed at an old-style building across the street. MUSEUM OF CULTURAL HISTORY was written at the top.
"I think it was a metaphor ... but, damn, it's as good a place to hide as any," said Gemora. They ran for it.
"Metaphor," said Drax. "These are difficult things, these metaphors."
They went inside. The place was almost empty. "We should be safe here, for a while at least," said Gemora.
And then there was an explosion in a wall, and Nebula and Scum came smashing through. Nebula drew her blade again. "I will enjoy slicing you open," she said to Gemora. "It is hardly a fair fight, since you are unarmed, but ... I can live with that."
She swung. Gemora dodged, kicking out. But Nebula was fast. She blocked the blow and punched. She slashed out again.
Gemora knew that she could evade the sword for a while, but not for long. Nebula was already trying to push her back, into a corner.
Gemora charged, aiming to grab her enemy in a lock, but Nebula anticipated the move. She swung Gemora around and threw her into the adjoining room. Sliding across the floor, Gemora smashed into a cabinet, and there was a cascade of glass. A moment later, Drax came flying backwards into the room as well, smashing into a pillar.
"He is a strong one," he said, getting to his feet.
Gemora looked at the cabinet she had hit. There was something in it. She read the little card. It said: Murata katana. Meiji Era. (Priceless).
"I wonder what 'priceless' means," she said.
"I would think that it means you would not have a pay anything for it," said Drax. "As in, it has no price."
Gemora nodded. It sounded reasonable.
She took the sword from the case. The blade was slightly curved and carefully engraved. It felt ... good ... in her hand. Like it belonged there. She swung it. It carved its own path through the air.
"Oh ... yeah," she said, taking it in both hands.
Nebula came into the room, Scum behind her. "Time to finish this," she said.
"I agree," said Gemora, turning to face her.
Nebula slashed out ... and Gemora's sword blocked the strike. The two edges scraped along each other, in a shower of sparks.
Nebula pulled back and stabbed again.
Gemora blocked it once more. She smiled.
She glanced at Drax and Scum, standing toe to toe, trading blows. Scum punched into Drax's chest. It drove him back several metres.
"Oh no," said Drax. He reached into the pocket of his shirt. He pulled out the remains of his donut. "Now that," he said, "is simply unacceptable." He took a deep, deep breath. His muscles seemed to become ... more muscular. The shirt ripped from his back, shredded.
"Huh," said Gemora, looking Nebula in the eye. "Now you're screwed."
Nebula shouted in rage and struck out again. But this time, Gemora slashed with the katana. There was the clash of metal meeting metal ... and then Nebula's blade was broken in two, the business end falling to the floor.
Stunned, she stared at the piece that was left.
"You know, I think I could get to like this planet," said Gemora.
Drax was grappling with Scum. Scum was being pushed back but he had managed to draw his blaster. Drax grasped his wrist. The blaster fired, a series of bolts lancing out and smashing into the walls of the room. Both Gemora and Nebula dived for cover.
Drax and Scum were face to face. Then Drax lurched forward, head-butting Scum. There was the crunching sound of bones breaking. The Ch'Paro groaned and fell back. Drax wrenched the blaster from his hand.
Nebula got to her feet. "You may think you've won," she growled. "But you haven't."
"Well, we certainly haven't lost," said Gemora.
"There will be another day," said Nebula.
"Anytime," said Gemora. She made a show of studying the sword.
Nebula gave a snarl. Then she drew a pellet from her belt and threw it to the floor. There was an explosion of smoke ... and when it was gone, so were Nebula and Scum.
"Aside from the loss of my donut, that was enjoyable," said Drax. "But your sister has more lives than a dog." He picked up the sheath of the Murata katana from the wreckage and handed it to Gemora. "I assume that this is also without price," he said.
"Since it is obvious that no-one else wants this blade, I think I will keep it," said Gemora, sheathing the sword. "And I believe it is a cat."
"A cat?"
"Yes, it ... no, don't worry about it. It can be a dog."
A young woman poked her head around what was left of the doorway.
"Whoa," she said. "What happened here? Are you guys making a movie or something?"
"Why, yes, we are," said Gemora.
"Really?" said the woman. "Who's directing it?"
"Michael Bay," said Gemora.
"Oh, that explains everything," said the woman.
"Are there tape playing machines in this museum?" said Drax to her. "We were told there were."
The woman shook her head. "But in the next street there's a store that sells vintage stuff like that," she said. "It's near a place that sells pots and pans."
"Excellent," said Gemora and Drax together.
"He'll never know," muttered Gemora, looking at the tape player, newly installed on the Ship console. She pressed PLAY. Music came out. She gave a sigh of relief.
Peter, Rocket and Groot came in. "Good to have you back, Gemora," said Peter. "Where did you and Drax get to, anyway?"
"I was ... that is, we were ... uh, not here ... " she stammered.
She was saved by the appearance of Drax. He was carrying a tray of something. "Look what I have done!" he said. "I have made donuts!"
"Oh, that's why you had those pans and stuff," said Rocket.
"Where is the hole?" said Gemora, looking at the rather uninviting lumps of fried dough.
"I ... haven't worked that bit out yet," said Drax.
He, Peter, Rocket, and Gemora each took one. They took a bite ... and then spat it out.
"Disgusting, even by your standards," said Rocket.
"It ... needs work," said Peter.
"Quite a lot," said Gemora.
"Perhaps," said Drax.
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"Easy for you to say, you didn't have to taste it," said Rocket to him.
"Then I have a new mission," said Drax. "Aside from killing Thannos. And protecting the galaxy. I will make it my life's work to find the perfect donut recipe." He took the tray and returned to wherever it was that he had made the things that were definitely not donuts.
Peter glanced at Gemora. "Metaphor?" he said.
She sighed. "We can only hope," she said.
END
