Part Four: Low Earth Orbit, July 15th, 3002
The autopilot automatically placed the Planet Express Ship in a parking orbit around Earth when Fry gave it no landing coordinates. It chimed at him for further instructions, but the redhead didn't hear. He was staring blankly out the front viewport, lost entirely in thought. How could I have been so stupid? He wondered. In retrospect, it was pretty obvious that she'd been hiding something. The way she'd been reluctant to talk about the past, the fuzzy details about her family and friends, her proficiency with the laser when they were fighting the Momcorp guards… None of it fit with the scared, vulnerable girl that he'd helped adjust to a new life in the 31st century. And there were other clues, things that he should have picked up on. The strange looks she gave to aliens that passed on the streets, that comment she'd made about Hermes at the restaurant; And then there had been the incident with the rental clerk. Why did I just let that pass? He wondered. Am I really that clueless? Or did I just want so badly to believe that the mask that Chelsea put up for me was the real thing that I ignored anything that might hint otherwise?
He let his body sink farther into the padding of the Captain's chair and let his head rest on his arms, which he'd crossed in front of him on the ship's wheel. The autopilot chimed at him again. It was becoming annoyed with its sluggish pilot. Fry ignored it. What am I going to do? He couldn't go home. When Chelsea made it back to Earth, and he was confident that she would, she'd probably go looking for him. He already knew how effective his front door was at keeping her out.
Fry felt a wave of despair wash over him. I've done it again. He realized. The despair was replaced by self-loathing. I had another chance to start over, and I screwed it up. Again! I cant go back to work, not with a crazy cyborg after me. I can't go home. What am I going to do?!
The autopilot chimed a third time, much more insistently than before. The machine's consciousness was beginning to worry that something might be wrong with the human in the Captain's chair. For the pentillionth time it wished that someone would update it with rudimentary language software. Until then, it would have to determine the best course of action without input from the pilot. Its main autonomous decision tree dictated that, in the case that it had been granted control of the ship and its crew had become nonresponsive, it should return to base as quickly as possible. When Fry didn't make any attempt to feed the machine new orders, the autopilot restarted the engines and dipped the vessel's nose into the atmosphere.
Fry picked his head up from the steering wheel and immediately had to shade his eyes from the glow of superheated plasma that had built up around the ship's nose. Thinking that he was crashing, Fry panicked. Luckily, the computer had already decided he was in no condition for command and ignored his orders, or the PE ship would likely have come apart under the strain of the things that Fry was telling it to do.
In a few seconds the ship had slowed to the point that the plasma faded away. New New York sat before him, its lights glittering like a jewel in the night. Fry stopped wrestling with the unresponsive controls and watched the city rise up to meet him. The ship banked to starboard, and suddenly Fry was flying over the Hudson River. Up ahead in the distance there was a shimmering light. There was enough moonlight for the redhead to make out the shape of the Planet Express Building. The light was escaping through the structure's roof as the hangar doors opened to welcome him.
The Planet Express Ship settled gently on its haunches and turned itself off. Fry pulled the key from the ignition and stood. Not really sure what else to do, the redhead left the bridge and wandered to the ship's ramp. His steps echoed loudly in the stillness. He knew it was silly, but he felt a little guilty for being in the Planet Express building uninvited. It wasn't really trespassing- he hadn't wanted to come here, after all- but it still felt weird. And then to top it off, he wasn't really sure yet where he was going.
The door at the rear of the Professor's laboratory whisked open, and Farnsworth came shuffling out, his white lab coat rustling about him. The scientist was carrying a giant set of tongs and a big cardboard box that was labeled "Leela's Organs". When he saw Fry standing at the foot of the ship, the spring left the old man's step.
"Huh-wha?" Farnsworth came to a stop a few feet from the redhead. He adjusted his glasses. "Fry? What are you doing here?"
Fry just shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't mean to be here. The ship wanted to come here."
"Yes, the ship sent me a message that it was coming, and that the pilot might need medical attention." He raised his tongs, pointedly. "Is Leela injured?"
"No Professor, sorry." His eyes fell. "I went looking for her, but all I found was the ship."
"Ah, I see." Farnsworth's face crumpled in disappointment. He let the box slide to the floor, jostling the empty jars that were contained within.
Fry, of course, misinterpreted his reaction. "I know. I miss her too." It was true, no matter how much it hurt his pride to admit it. Suddenly, the weight of the day's events came crashing down on him, and he remembered that he hadn't slept more than a few hours in the last forty eight "Hey, Professor," he said, stifling a yawn, "can I crash here tonight?"
The abrupt change in subject didn't seem to catch the scientist off guard. Fry thought it most likely that it was because Farnsworth had forgotten the previous conversation already. "Why of course! Just remember to be awake by 6:00. You have an early morning cheeseburger delivery to the planet of American Stereotypes."
"Uhh, but Professor, I don't work here anym- Oh, never mind." Farnsworth began to shamble away, but he stopped when he'd made it about halfway to the door at the back of his lab. "Oh, and Fry," He called over his shoulder, "Have you seen Leela?"
The lumpy. stained cushions of the lounge's couch were more of a mental comfort than a physical one. It was only a short time before Fry felt the mantle of sleep descend upon him, but he forced it away momentarily. He knew that he would have to do something decisive come the next morning. It was sorely tempting to just cut his looses and see if that job Hermes had offered him was still available, but he knew that it wouldn't work. He'd never actually told Chelsea where Planet Express was located, but she'd figure that out pretty quick. It would also be the first place that she looked for him when it became clear that he wasn't going to return to his apartment. For now he was safe; No one was going to break into the Planet Express building. The place had been made a fortress, both to guard against anyone meaning to steal Farnsworth's doomsday devices, and, to some extent, to keep some of the Professor's experiments from thinking about escaping.
Fry's thoughts turned to Leela. When he'd had to work with her she'd seemed bossy and overbearing, but she'd always had his back, no matter what. Now that she was gone, he realized how much that in itself had meant to him, and how much he had taken it for granted. But he didn't just miss Leela, he missed the whole Planet Express crew. He was even beginning to look back fondly on Bender's shenanigans. Well, the ones that had only ended with Fry in the hospital, anyway. His new life had seemed so promising, but now it lay in shambles, all because his new girlfriend just happened to turn out to be some psychotic cyborg bent on the systematic assimilation or extermination of all organic life. To make things worse, Fry was probably now at the very top of said crazy cyborg's hit list.
Who would've ever thought having a cyborg for a girlfriend could possibly be a bad thing? He thought darkly.
Chelsea would probably kill him if she found him, and he couldn't do a thing about it. The only person that might possibly be able to take her on was Leela, and she was missing. If only I knew where she was. That alien guard said that Mom's sons took her. That could mean anything, he knew. She could be stuck in some private prison hidden somewhere- anywhere- in the universe. For that matter, she might very well be dead. And there's no way for me to know, one way or the other. A thought, born of desperation and the fuzzy logic that comes with being on the edge of sleep, thrust its way into the forefront of his mind. Unless I sneak into Momcorp headquarters and find out…
A jolt of adrenaline blasted through Fry's system when someone tried to shake him awake. His eyes shot open, but it was only Hermes that was standing over him. He'd slept through the entire night. No crazed cyborgs had assaulted the building.
Hermes looked about as perplexed as Fry had ever seen him. "By Jah, Fry, what are you doing here? And why is da ship back in da hangar?"
Now that the adrenaline rush was gone, it took a moment for Fry's brain to climb out of its fog. He blinked, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and sat up. "Ungh, what?"
A hint of annoyance began to creep into the bureaucrat's voice. He tried again. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, sorry." Fry leaned back, and, raising his arms over his head, tried to stretch. His vertebrae made soft popping noises as he turned his torso to the left and right. "I went looking for Leela, Bender, and Amy yesterday. I found the ship."
Hermes blinked in surprise. "I see…" That was good news. Planet Express had been, for all intents and purposes, out of business without its spaceship. The professor was in the process of dusting off the old blueprints, but it would be months before a working vessel could be built. The lost revenue from all of those packages that wouldn't be delivered would have been a near disaster for the company.
"And what about da crew?"
Fry stopped stretching, and his face fell. "I didn't find them." He brightened. "But I have a list of things I'm going to do to figure out where they are…"
"You mean a plan?"
"Yeah, that."
The first thing to do was to stop by his apartment and retrieve everything that he could. It was risky, he knew that, but he found himself unable to allow Chelsea the chance to smash the few treasures he'd managed to collect during his stay in the future. If nothing else, he had to retrieve his holophoner and that picture of Leela.
The closer he got to his apartment building, the more conspicuous he felt. By the time he'd reached the building's front door his heart was beating hard enough that he thought every pedestrian that happened by couldn't fail to hear it thumping in his chest. He scanned the lobby for hidden attackers, but it was empty. As he was about to press the elevator call button, the set of elevator doors to his left clunked open. The noise made him jump. An old woman shuffled out of the elevator car and, upon seeing the stark terror in his eyes, favored him with an odd look. Fry leaned against the wall to catch his breath, but the elevator doors began to close, and he had to squeeze through.
No one was waiting in ambush in the hallway outside his apartment, and he discovered with relief that his door was still locked. Even so, it took him awhile to gather the courage to put his key in the lock and enter the apartment. When the door squeaked opened he flinched in anticipation, but nothing happened.
Just to make sure he was really alone, Fry grabbed a knife off of his kitchen counter and carefully checked every nook and cranny that might serve as a hiding place. Finally, and at long last, he was convinced that he really was alone. His anxiety didn't lessen, however, as he kept expecting Chelsea to come smashing into the room at any moment.
The holophoner and picture were both where he'd left them; the holophoner in its case under his bed, and the picture on his dresser. He stuffed the picture into the inside of his jacket and grabbed the instrument case in his right hand before making a beeline for the door. Something caught his eye. A piece of paper was sitting on the little end table next to his sofa. Curious, he picked it up, and every hair on the back of his neck stood up. It was a bill for the ship he and Chelsea had rented, and under it, neatly stacked, was a handful of crisp bills exactly covering Chelsea's half of the bill. He bolted.
After he'd put about a mile between himself and his apartment, he finally managed to calm himself enough to remember that he had a mission. He made his way to the Robot Arms apartment building and stashed the holophoner and the picture in his old room. It was the safest place he could think of. He didn't remember telling Chelsea where he and Bender had lived before he'd been fired, and he didn't think she'd expect him to use it as a hiding place. Or at least, he hoped she wouldn't.
The second phase of his plan wasn't quite as thought out. He knew that he wanted to get into the Momcorp headquarters building, but as for how he was going to manage that, or for that matter, how exactly he was going to discover the PE crew's whereabouts once he made it inside, he had no idea. There was also the small issue that Chelsea worked as a guard in the building. That ruled out trying to break in during the dayshift.
Inspiration finally struck after he'd been sitting at a café down the street for two hours, staring blankly at the Momcorp building while he nursed a cup of lousy coffee. A swarm of brown boxes was flitting in and out of the upper floors of the building, no doubt being processed by Momcorp's delivery company, which was Planet Express's main competitor.
When the sun finally set, Fry was just leaving a small convenience store. He had a roll of masking tape in one hand and a marker in the other. Whistling to himself, he nonchalantly made his way into the alley adjacent to the store. A few broken down cardboard boxes were stashed at the rear of the alley next to an overflowing dumpster. He was in luck; one of the boxes looked just big enough for him to crawl into. Shifting his supplies to his other hand, he propped the flattened box under his arm and set off for the nearest tubeway.
When he'd found a tube with no one nearby to see him, put down his load and put the box together. When the bottom of the box had been taped together he scribbled a fake address on it, put it in the tube, and then climbed in. Unfortunately, Mom's Friendly Surveillance Unit would have caught him on tape making the shipment, so they would know who to send the shipping bill to.
The tube's computer waited for him to give it a destination. "Momcorp Delivery Services, please." He said, not really sure why he was being polite to a computer program. Carefully, Fry closed the top of the box and applied a little tape to the inside of the lid to keep it from opening, and the tube whisked him away.
One disorienting and extremely uncomfortable ride later, Fry found himself lying on his head in the dark. He listened for voices or any other sound of people nearby, but everything was quiet. Slowly he undid the tape that was keeping the lid on the box and pushed upward against what had originally been the bottom of the box with his feet. The box slid upward a few inches and he surveyed what he could see of his surroundings through the gap between the box and the floor. He was in a large warehouse of sorts that was piled from floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes of every size imaginable. No one seemed to be anywhere nearby. Satisfied that he was alone, the redhead extricated himself from his cardboard Trojan horse and stood up. After dusting himself he looked around him for an exit. He had to search for it, hidden as it was behind a stack of boxes.
On the other side of the door was a long, grey corridor that curved away in both directions. Alright. He said to himself. Now, if I were some kind of super secret database thingy, where would I be? After much thought, Fry decided to head left. It seemed as good a direction as any.
This late in the day, all of the corridors were empty. Fry tried some of the doors that he came across, but most of them were locked, and the rest were storerooms and offices that contained nothing of use to him.
It was just starting to dawn on him how very large the Momcorp building was, and how very unlikely it was that he was going to stumble upon the information that he was looking for when he thought he heard the sound of distant footsteps behind him. He froze for a moment and listened. Yes, there was definitely someone coming. His first impulse was to run, but he caught himself. He tried a nearby door; it was unlocked. As quietly as he could he pushed it open enough to squeeze his body through, and then lightly pressed it closed again. The clunk-clunk-clunk of boots on metal grew louder. Fry held his breath, but whoever it was didn't break stride when they passed. Unable to resist, Fry opened the door a crack and stole a glance at the figure that was retreating down the corridor. What he saw made his heart leap. Shouting in surprise and joy, he leapt from his hiding place and bounded out into the hallway. The figure stopped and turned around, her one eye swiveling to stare right through him.
"Leela!" He yelled, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "I can't believe it!" He tried to embrace her. "God it's good to see you. I-" Suddenly he was lying on the floor with one of Leela's knees planted firmly on his neck. Fry couldn't breathe. He looked up at the PE Captain, terrified.
"Why?" He managed between gasps.
The butt of Leela's weapon connected solidly with the side of his skull.
