I'LL BE RIGHT HERE
Chapter Forty Six
"Before the battle of the fist comes the battle of the mind… then the dramatic entrance."
(From: 'Kung Fu Panda 3'.)
-x0x-
Now…
The sky was blue. The water was calm. And the situation could not have been more alarming.
Dennis Gogolack had seen enough classic TV to know that the random bad guy who went off in the tiny shuttle-slash-boat didn't even sort of make it to the end of the episode before he was captured, or killed, or consumed by a giant space slug. He was the villainous equivalent of the guy in the red shirt. "And what does that make me?" Dennis wondered uncomfortably. "The comic relief? Or the stereotypical nerd?" It was a sobering thought. Nerds didn't have a great track record when it came to longevity – just look at Daniel Jackson, who took dying (and returning) to a whole new level. Comedy characters often went the same way too. All in all, the odds of surviving this latest development were not in his favour, if classic TV tropes were any kind of evidence.
On the other hand, Dennis had also seen enough movies and shows to know that it was still possible to overcome those odds if you had pluck and intelligence (or a handy alien sarcophagus) on your side. Like… okay, yes, like Daniel Jackson. Or Jeff Goldblum in 'Independence Day'. Or Hardison in 'Leverage' – in fact, pretty much all of the geek heroes in the whole Devlin canon.
Kneeling in the stern of the little tender, Dennis centred himself by breathing in time with the rise and fall of the waves as he pondered on those life-saving qualities.
Shawn Spencer had more than his fair share of each; that much was certain. Was he still alive right now because of it? Dennis had the strongest feeling that he was. Shawn's uncanny knack of 'seeing' two and two, then putting his visions together to make five, was also enviable. Secretly, Dennis scoffed at the idea of crime-solving spirits – it was all too clear that aliens, not dead people, had chosen Shawn for some kind of major experiment here on earth – but he wasn't about to burst his friend's bubble (or freak him out completely) by revealing what he knew to be the truth. Besides, it had never been Shawn's talents that endeared him to the awkward boy in the wizard's cloak who still lived inside Dennis Gogolack.
It had been his kindness.
Not once had Shawn seen Dennis as a friend to be ashamed of. Not once had he mocked his obsessions in a hurtful manner. Not once had he failed to stand up for Dennis when their classmates tormented him. Jimmy Nickles, Geoff Garrett, Olga the Russian exchange student… Shawn had faced them all with unexpected bravery (when he, Gus and Dennis weren't able to run and hide). He had taken the painful consequences on his friend's behalf, still using humour as his main defence, even as the bullies pounded on him. Now the boy was a man (of sorts) – but little about him had changed.
Yes, thought Dennis firmly. Shawn was still alive.
Let's hope we both stay that way.
In the meantime, the ocean was vast, the horizon was empty and his own fate lay in the hands of a landlubber who could no more find the California coastline than Shawn could spell 'discombobulated'. The GPS co-ordinates on the boat's out-dated navigation system may as well have been in Goa'uld or Klingon for all the sense they made to the poor guy. What had probably seemed like a good plan at first – take a hostage and head for shore – now felt more like a nightmare for both of them.
Wary of initiating a conversation with a dangerous thug by telling him that he was sailing round in circles, Dennis decided to bust out the Gogolack charm offensive instead. His friendly face and harmless demeanour often made other people underestimate his capabilities and he had learned to use this to his own advantage over the last few years. He bared his teeth in a hopeful smile and shuffled forwards on his knees.
"Hey, man," he ventured. "How's it going?"
Open-ended questions were the key. Nudge… and the guy starts talking. Nudge… and he spills too much information. Nudge… and he's putty in my hands, thought Dennis, trying to instil himself with confidence when all he really felt was sick to his stomach – and so very tired.
I miss Molly, he thought with a sudden, sharp pang that was physical in its intensity.
"Oh," said the bad guy. "You know…"
Yes I do, sighed Dennis, who understood the GPS readout perfectly. Next stop, Alaska. If they were lucky. "Got any food or water on this boat?" Once again, he edged forwards.
The man was lean and wiry, with a twitch like a tick-ridden dog. "No, I haven't."
Dennis shook his head. "That's not good. I'm pretty thirsty. Are we nearly there yet?"
Lean And Twitchy glanced at the tiny screen with a thinly disguised air of desperation. "Um… yeah."
"Are you sure? Because… well, isn't Santa Barbara to the east?"
"Of course it is," the man said shiftily.
"But we're heading south," Dennis lied. "Did you see the sunrise?"
"What?"
"The sunrise. In the west." The con was a gamble, he knew, based on a sketchy assessment of the other man's capabilities, but Dennis kept right on talking and hoped for the best. "That means we're heading the wrong way. I can show you, if you like?" Yes – show you how to sail right back to the Copernicus, and into the friendly arms of the U.S. Coastguard…
"Um," said Lean And Twitchy, staring out to sea as though the horizon itself held the answer he longed for.
"Look, all we have to do is program the GPS and tell it where to go. I know tech. It's my business. I could do that for you, easy."
Suspicion was creeping in. "Why?" Lean And Twitchy demanded.
"Don't you get it? We're in this together, man. No food or water means we'll both be dead if we don't find land. You want to survive this, don't you?" Dennis could make his eyes shine with conviction. His nemesis crumbled.
"Yes," he relented. "Please…"
-x0x-
The sun was bright and cheerful overhead but Dennis still felt chilled to the bone by icy, creeping threads of fear and doubt. His plan was working, sure, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the simple ruse was uncovered. Seeing the Copernicus on the horizon would be the first nail in his coffin. Lean And Twitchy was armed, after all, and even the pluckiest pluck or the sharpest of wits were no match for a bullet at close quarters.
Or were they?
If he could somehow gain control of the weapon, for example… Under the circumstances, such an achievement would be enough to bring the Magic Circle to their feet in a thunderous round of applause. Dennis was only an amateur magician but he had been practising since he was seven years old, when a spellbound little boy watched David Copperfield make the Statue of Liberty disappear on live television. If a man could do that… why, anything was possible.
"I'm bored," he said to Lean And Twitchy. "Want to see a magic trick?"
The bad guy pulled a sour face. "I guess."
"Then I'm going to need several small objects. Got anything in your pocketses… I mean, pockets? All I have is an asthma inhaler," Dennis explained apologetically. "Your friend Meek took the rest."
Lean And Twitchy dug around to see what he could find. Before long, a small collection of items lay on the seat between them. A comb, some gum, a set of nail clippers and a photo of a woman who looked disconcertingly like a llama.
"Your girlfriend?" said Dennis politely.
"My wife," growled the man.
"Awesome…" He resisted the urge to ask if she was a chronic spitter, and laid the objects out in a straight line.
"I want 'em all back when you're done," Lean And Twitchy said with deep suspicion.
Dennis drew one finger across his heart, and then back again. "That's a promise." He made a few mysterious passes over the line with his hands. Lean And Twitchy watched him with growing interest.
"I should warn you. I don't believe in magic and spirits and all that hooey."
"Fair enough," said Dennis calmly. "Then I guess you won't believe in this." He snapped his fingers – and Lean And Twitchy's mouth fell open in absolute shock.
The photo had disappeared.
"How did you do that?"
Dennis sat back on his heels and grinned. "I'm sure a smart man like you can work it out. Want to see it again? I'll go slower this time."
"Yes, please," said Lean And Twitchy eagerly. He was totally hooked, just as Dennis had hoped, and shuffled closer to the dwindling line of objects, leaning over them and frowning intently. The front of his jacket hung loosely and Dennis could just see the gun, in its shoulder holster. This was going to take a great deal of finesse. His fingers trembled as he knelt upright again and prepared for the trick of a lifetime. The trick of his life.
"Watch the objects," he warned the man. "Then you'll be able to see when I make my move."
Or not…
His hands moved hypnotically, passing backwards and forwards. Lean And Twitchy was entranced, and so busy watching for the promised trick that he missed it altogether.
Dennis released the safety on the gun with a satisfying click (hoping, at the same time, that he wouldn't really have to use it). "Guess I got you again. Score a point for the wizard. Now do you believe in magic and spirits and all that hooey?"
"I believe you tricked me," scowled his enemy. "Where's the photograph?"
Slipping it back out of his own pocket, Dennis handed it over. As they brushed hands, Lean And Twitchy grabbed hold of Dennis and pulled with all his might, heaving both men off-balance. The gun went sliding across the base of the boat, but neither of them noticed. They were too busy grappling with each other, in a squirming tangle of rage and dismay – until a new voice crackled overhead, loud and officious and magically right on time.
"This is the U.S. Coastguard. We're armed, and have you in our sights. Cease your struggle immediately and prepare to be boarded…"
"Best trick ever," Dennis muttered smugly, as both men drew apart and raised their arms in the universal gesture of submission. "Abracadabra, sucker…."