Phantoms Of A Lost Tomorrow
My name is Faye Chaplain. Faye Valentine-Chaplain. Once, long ago, I was the notorious cowboy
working side-by-side with the infamous Spike Spiegel. Short blue-black hair, my eyes vacuous pools ofgreen,
clad in yellow skintight clothing; I was a deadly beauty. I was a gambling criminal who thought no more of
killing a dozen people than I did putting on lipstick, maybe even less. I had flawless skin and a perfect
figure, physically I was a little over twenty. Chronologically, I was over sixty.
I was the cryogenically frozen daughter of a wealthy man. I had grown up in private schools on
Earth. I was nice and polite. I lived in giant mansions, and grew up in the time when man was conquering
the planets and colonizing them. It was a wonderful time to be alive, and I didn't remember any of it.
At about 18 I took a trip on a space shuttle. It was so exhilarating, like riding first class in a
jumbo jet, and yet so much more exciting. All I remember is seeing a movie, and seeing the screen split in
two right down the middle. I saw things, blood, people, soft drinks, all defying gravity. It was muted, I
heard nothing. My consciousness faded, and when I awoke I was on a hospital bed in a seemingly far-off
Sci-Fi future that had arrived all too fast.
The doctors told me that I had technically died on that shuttle fifty years ago. I had been
teetering on the edge of life and death, and so, I was put in cryogenic suspension. I couldn't remember
who I was, where I had come from, anything like that. I couldn't remember things about myself. I had
amnesia, no clue about this future-world I had arrived upon, and now, I had more then fifty years of
medical bills to deal with. I did the only thing I could. I ran away and hid from my debts, and eventually
found myself on the bounty hunter ship named "Bebop"
Bebop was a whole lot of something out of nothing. All criminals feared the crew. They feared Spike
Speigel, the lanky, thirty-year old chain-smoker who was "The Greatest Bounty Hunter Ever". It was true
that his moves could make any Karate Master cower in fear, but truth be told, all of his bounties were
brought in due to his clumsiness, luck, or near-impossible coincidences. He always spent more money fixing
the damage done in a chase than he received for catching the crook.
They feared Jet Black the forty-year old retired police chief with a prosthetic arm. A man who was
a good cook, mechanic, and pilot. An old man with a bald head, old battle scars, inside info, who was
addicted to the keeping of Bonsai trees.
They feared Edward Wong Hau Peppelu Trivousky IV, as she had christened herself. The little
orphan-hacker from Earth. The child of no more than twelve who spoke gibberish in over ten languages and
acted like a toddler. The girl with a pure mind, horrible fashion sense, and a mind typical of an offspring
of Einstein. Ed was a kid with a sunny disposition and a tendency to speak in the third-person. She was
typically called a "little boy" because her gender was very uncertain.
They were afraid of Ein. Ein the genetically-enhanced Welsh Corgi. The dog who followed Ed around
everywhere. The dog who had more sense in his head than any other living entity normally aboard Bebop.
They were even afraid of a thirty pound dog.
********************
We were all aboard Bebop, for money we said. And although we did need money and more often than not
our stomachs were gnawing upon themselves in hunger, it wasn't for money. Not even for me, the most
seemingly-shallow one among the group.
Bebop was a ship of dreams, and we were all searching for ours. I was searching for my past, where
I belonged. Spike was searching for his old girlfriend, Julia, and a place he could get away from the world.
Jet was searching for that fame he had had when he was young, the fulfillment of justice, and perhaps that
bit of profit that he never did see. Ed was searching for something we could never quite understand.
Ein was always searching for a full stomach and human companionship. He was undoubtedly the smartest one
among us, because that's all you really need in life. If we had know that, things might've been different.
I looked for my old life, convinced that when I found it, I'd find all I'd ever wanted, and after
so many years of searching, I found it on Bebop, just like I knew I would. I was just looking for the place
I belonged, but I would lose it to a sham. The very sham that I called my first life. The sham I gambled
for, the thing I convinced myself, that was the solution to all my problems. I finally remembered where
home was, and who I was, but this very remembering was to trigger the very beginning of the end.
Upon this recollection, I took all that was mine; two sets of clothes, some cheap jewelry and some
pocket change and got ready to leave in my ship. No one cared where I went anyway, or so I thought. Maybe I
was right in that assumption, maybe I wasn't. It doesn't matter now. Before taking off, Ed wanted to know
where I was going. I told her I was going home and that was the most important thing in the world. If you
had a home, it was worth going home to. The illogical little girl stared up at me as I flew away, and
decided to follow my advice. That very night, she and Ein packed up and headed out to find her father, the
traveling geologist. That left just Jet and Spike.
Meanwhile I had come to my "home". I grew excited as I saw the gate loom ahead of me. It was
exactly as I remembered it. As I pushed open the gate my heart shattered when it saw what had been left. It
was an overrun garden, a fountain and crumbling foundation.
My home was not a home. It was just the dead ruins of a great life, worth no more to me than the
remains of the Greek empire. Convinced I was going crazy, or I had a dream or a false memory, or that I
had gotten the wrong directions I picked up a stick. I proceeded to trace the walls of the house, as I had
remembered them. I drew the beds, tables, bureaus, appliance and rugs. When I was finished I looked at the
outline I had made. It was the house as I had remembered it, and it matched the foundation perfectly.
Everything fit. The sun was setting and I lay down inside the outline of where my bed had been. I made up
my mind to go back to the Bebop the next day, just like I always did when my schemes failed. When I
returned, Spike was gone.
In the beginning, it had been just Jet and Spike. Now the two couldn't really fill the void that
was created when Ed, Ein and I had left. Spike was, what I called "The Isolated Social Butterfly", he had
to have people around so he could isolate himself from them. He was a very odd people-person. It was then,
in his vulnerable time, Julia came. Spike went off with her, which was only natural, since he was willing
to die for her. He had practically quit his life so they could be together, only to lose her to his best
friend, Vicious.
Not long after my arrival, Spike was back. Without Julia. We knew she was dead, we didn't bother
asking. It was better that way. He sat down with Jet, and ate a meal of "Bell Peppers and Beef",
(without the beef), then told a story;
"Once there was a tiger-striped cat," Spike began.
"He lived a thousand lives, died a thousand times and was owned by a thousand owners. The next time he
died and was reincarnated he was a stray cat. He was free." He paused.
"Now the tiger-striped cat met a beautiful white female cat, they were happy and spent all their days
together. Time passed, and the white cat grew old and eventually died. The tiger striped cat cried a
million tears, and then he died too, but this time, he didn't come back."
"That was a nice story." Jet remarked softly.
"I hate that story," Spike said suddenly, surprising Jet, "I hate cats, you know that!"
And the two laughed hysterically. Spike packed up his things and got up.
Jet stopped laughing, "Is it for the girl?" he asked.
Neither I nor Jet heard his reply.
I begged Spike not to go, because he was really all I the family I had left. I told him he was just
going to die.
"I'm not going there to die, I'm going to find out if I was ever really alive."
I shot at him half-heartedly, missing each shot. My tears fell like rain on the floor. Jet and I watched
him go for the last time, we could do nothing more.
That lack of action would drive me insane. Literally.
My name is Faye Chaplain. Faye Valentine-Chaplain. Once, long ago, I was the notorious cowboy
working side-by-side with the infamous Spike Spiegel. Short blue-black hair, my eyes vacuous pools ofgreen,
clad in yellow skintight clothing; I was a deadly beauty. I was a gambling criminal who thought no more of
killing a dozen people than I did putting on lipstick, maybe even less. I had flawless skin and a perfect
figure, physically I was a little over twenty. Chronologically, I was over sixty.
I was the cryogenically frozen daughter of a wealthy man. I had grown up in private schools on
Earth. I was nice and polite. I lived in giant mansions, and grew up in the time when man was conquering
the planets and colonizing them. It was a wonderful time to be alive, and I didn't remember any of it.
At about 18 I took a trip on a space shuttle. It was so exhilarating, like riding first class in a
jumbo jet, and yet so much more exciting. All I remember is seeing a movie, and seeing the screen split in
two right down the middle. I saw things, blood, people, soft drinks, all defying gravity. It was muted, I
heard nothing. My consciousness faded, and when I awoke I was on a hospital bed in a seemingly far-off
Sci-Fi future that had arrived all too fast.
The doctors told me that I had technically died on that shuttle fifty years ago. I had been
teetering on the edge of life and death, and so, I was put in cryogenic suspension. I couldn't remember
who I was, where I had come from, anything like that. I couldn't remember things about myself. I had
amnesia, no clue about this future-world I had arrived upon, and now, I had more then fifty years of
medical bills to deal with. I did the only thing I could. I ran away and hid from my debts, and eventually
found myself on the bounty hunter ship named "Bebop"
Bebop was a whole lot of something out of nothing. All criminals feared the crew. They feared Spike
Speigel, the lanky, thirty-year old chain-smoker who was "The Greatest Bounty Hunter Ever". It was true
that his moves could make any Karate Master cower in fear, but truth be told, all of his bounties were
brought in due to his clumsiness, luck, or near-impossible coincidences. He always spent more money fixing
the damage done in a chase than he received for catching the crook.
They feared Jet Black the forty-year old retired police chief with a prosthetic arm. A man who was
a good cook, mechanic, and pilot. An old man with a bald head, old battle scars, inside info, who was
addicted to the keeping of Bonsai trees.
They feared Edward Wong Hau Peppelu Trivousky IV, as she had christened herself. The little
orphan-hacker from Earth. The child of no more than twelve who spoke gibberish in over ten languages and
acted like a toddler. The girl with a pure mind, horrible fashion sense, and a mind typical of an offspring
of Einstein. Ed was a kid with a sunny disposition and a tendency to speak in the third-person. She was
typically called a "little boy" because her gender was very uncertain.
They were afraid of Ein. Ein the genetically-enhanced Welsh Corgi. The dog who followed Ed around
everywhere. The dog who had more sense in his head than any other living entity normally aboard Bebop.
They were even afraid of a thirty pound dog.
********************
We were all aboard Bebop, for money we said. And although we did need money and more often than not
our stomachs were gnawing upon themselves in hunger, it wasn't for money. Not even for me, the most
seemingly-shallow one among the group.
Bebop was a ship of dreams, and we were all searching for ours. I was searching for my past, where
I belonged. Spike was searching for his old girlfriend, Julia, and a place he could get away from the world.
Jet was searching for that fame he had had when he was young, the fulfillment of justice, and perhaps that
bit of profit that he never did see. Ed was searching for something we could never quite understand.
Ein was always searching for a full stomach and human companionship. He was undoubtedly the smartest one
among us, because that's all you really need in life. If we had know that, things might've been different.
I looked for my old life, convinced that when I found it, I'd find all I'd ever wanted, and after
so many years of searching, I found it on Bebop, just like I knew I would. I was just looking for the place
I belonged, but I would lose it to a sham. The very sham that I called my first life. The sham I gambled
for, the thing I convinced myself, that was the solution to all my problems. I finally remembered where
home was, and who I was, but this very remembering was to trigger the very beginning of the end.
Upon this recollection, I took all that was mine; two sets of clothes, some cheap jewelry and some
pocket change and got ready to leave in my ship. No one cared where I went anyway, or so I thought. Maybe I
was right in that assumption, maybe I wasn't. It doesn't matter now. Before taking off, Ed wanted to know
where I was going. I told her I was going home and that was the most important thing in the world. If you
had a home, it was worth going home to. The illogical little girl stared up at me as I flew away, and
decided to follow my advice. That very night, she and Ein packed up and headed out to find her father, the
traveling geologist. That left just Jet and Spike.
Meanwhile I had come to my "home". I grew excited as I saw the gate loom ahead of me. It was
exactly as I remembered it. As I pushed open the gate my heart shattered when it saw what had been left. It
was an overrun garden, a fountain and crumbling foundation.
My home was not a home. It was just the dead ruins of a great life, worth no more to me than the
remains of the Greek empire. Convinced I was going crazy, or I had a dream or a false memory, or that I
had gotten the wrong directions I picked up a stick. I proceeded to trace the walls of the house, as I had
remembered them. I drew the beds, tables, bureaus, appliance and rugs. When I was finished I looked at the
outline I had made. It was the house as I had remembered it, and it matched the foundation perfectly.
Everything fit. The sun was setting and I lay down inside the outline of where my bed had been. I made up
my mind to go back to the Bebop the next day, just like I always did when my schemes failed. When I
returned, Spike was gone.
In the beginning, it had been just Jet and Spike. Now the two couldn't really fill the void that
was created when Ed, Ein and I had left. Spike was, what I called "The Isolated Social Butterfly", he had
to have people around so he could isolate himself from them. He was a very odd people-person. It was then,
in his vulnerable time, Julia came. Spike went off with her, which was only natural, since he was willing
to die for her. He had practically quit his life so they could be together, only to lose her to his best
friend, Vicious.
Not long after my arrival, Spike was back. Without Julia. We knew she was dead, we didn't bother
asking. It was better that way. He sat down with Jet, and ate a meal of "Bell Peppers and Beef",
(without the beef), then told a story;
"Once there was a tiger-striped cat," Spike began.
"He lived a thousand lives, died a thousand times and was owned by a thousand owners. The next time he
died and was reincarnated he was a stray cat. He was free." He paused.
"Now the tiger-striped cat met a beautiful white female cat, they were happy and spent all their days
together. Time passed, and the white cat grew old and eventually died. The tiger striped cat cried a
million tears, and then he died too, but this time, he didn't come back."
"That was a nice story." Jet remarked softly.
"I hate that story," Spike said suddenly, surprising Jet, "I hate cats, you know that!"
And the two laughed hysterically. Spike packed up his things and got up.
Jet stopped laughing, "Is it for the girl?" he asked.
Neither I nor Jet heard his reply.
I begged Spike not to go, because he was really all I the family I had left. I told him he was just
going to die.
"I'm not going there to die, I'm going to find out if I was ever really alive."
I shot at him half-heartedly, missing each shot. My tears fell like rain on the floor. Jet and I watched
him go for the last time, we could do nothing more.
That lack of action would drive me insane. Literally.