Chapter 5

THE NEXT MORNING

I was awoken very quickly by the loud sounds of explosions and screaming. What was going on? My eyes shot open very quickly and I was instantly blinded by a bright light. I couldn't see. When my vision returned, I looked around in a frantic panic to see that the blinding light was a lamp next to the couch and the horrible sounds were coming from the T.V. It was a damn war movie. Once I discovered this, I realized where I was and the memories of yesterday and last night came flooding back to me in one large wave. Now my heart was pounding and my head was throbbing. All because of that stupid T.V. and it's stupidness!

"Oh good, you're awake!" There stood Vova groggily smiling as she stared down at me. "I made breakfast," she mumbled and slumped away toward the kitchenette. She was obviously hung over from the night before; poor thing.

I tried to get up off the couch but I was instantly tangled up in the sheets and soon found myself facedown on the floor. This didn't help my headache at all. In fact, I know felt like I was dying.

Carefully, I picked myself up off of the floor and stumbled down the hall to use the lav. Afterward, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. It was the wall mirror. I looked like a big, steaming pile of slark. I had huge, dark bags under my eyes, dirt was in strategic places on my face, one antenna was bent from sleeping on it wrong, and I had a chipped tooth. How'd I chip my tooth?

I quickly washed my face and walked back into the living quarters. The smell coming from the kitchenette was a very delicious and welcoming aroma. Especially when compared to what I had eaten the day before. The small table was heavily laden with an array of Irken breakfast staples. Multicolored eggs, sausages, bacon, and TOAST covered almost the entire surface. And behind all of this food, Vova sat waiting for me. I would have felt bad about her doing all that work, but I knew the automated kitchenette machines did it for her.

"Hey sleepy-head," she laughed, "You sure slept for a long time. It's almost five thirty!" It's a common misconception that Irkens don't require sleep, but we do. It's just that we only need three hours a night. I must have slept, what, five? Damn, I was tired!

I grabbed a plate off the counter and sat down at the table. "Yeah," I yawned while I loaded up the plate with whatever I could reach.

"So, what are do you think you'll do today?"

"Dunno'," I said through a mouthful of toast while trying to straighten out my poor antenna. I wasn't very talkative in the mornings.

"You're not very talkative in the mornings." See, I told you! Vova poured a glass of water and dropped two tablets into it. They quickly dissolved with a light fizzing and she drank the whole thing down.

We ate the rest of breakfast in complete silence. The only audible sounds came from the T.V. and the sound of chewing.

After, I helped Vova wash the dishes. Okay, I helped her put them in the washing device and turned it on for her. But that counts as helping with the dishes.

Vova washed her face and started putting on her make up and curling her antennae. While she was busied with "putting her face on", I slipped into the shower. I guess if we were really related, her seeing me naked might have been more awkward, but those circumstances didn't apply. And I really needed to bathe. I had a quick shower, but I made sure to get clean. I dried off and borrowed a tube of Ziggy's deodorant and I was good to go. I put my clothes back on and walked out into the living area while contemplating buying some new clothes since my old ones where stolen.

It wasn't long after that, that we left the apartment. I showed Vova the now functional locking mechanism and for the first time in six months, she locked the front door to her home.

"Thank you, Stiv. You didn't have to do that," she told me happily.

"You're welcome, sis."

"Wait, you stole his tools?" she quickly realized. "That was wrong, BUT you fixed my door. Did you return them?" She asked warily.

"Yes," I lied. They were really hidden under the couch for any future maintenance that might present itself.

We got on the elevator and I pushed the button marked "lobby". The elevator roared to life and we rapidly plummeted downward. I am glad to say that the cursed thing only got stuck once, but after a savage kicking of the still exposed electrical box, it continued its way down to the ground floor. When the doors opened, they revealed what was, last night, a filthy lobby. In the light of the dawning suns, I could now really see the lobby in all of its grotesque splendor. The dead junkie was still crumpled in the corner with his claw shoved down the front of his pants, just as I had left him. That's when I noticed what he was wearing. The junkie wore an all too familiar yellow and black rag.

"He's got my favorite shirt!" I said out loud to no one in particular. I quickly walked over to the cold body and, for the second time, looted the corpse. He smelled funny. Now, you may think I'm an Irken with no honor and absolutely no morals, and you'd be right, but regardless, he had MY favorite shirt. It was MINE! Besides, I don't have to defend my self from you anyway. I don't care what you think of me! But I digress.

"Stiv, what are you talking about? Leave the poor guy alone! He must be exhausted if he's been asleep this long," she said as I took back my shirt and stuffed it in my PAK.

"I'm sorry for him, but he shouldn't have stolen from me," I said and looked at him for a second. How could Vova still think he's asleep when his eyes are frozen wide open and staring at me? In fact, it was a little unnerving, so I picked up his sunglasses from off of the floor and put them on his head. "There, much better," I mumbled to myself and stood up, brushing my jacket off.

The walk to the cafetorium didn't seem nearly as long as it had the previous night. The sky was clear and the suns were just beginning to rise into view over the horizon as the streetlights dimmed. Unfortunately, this sight was wasted on us due to Vova being very hung over and I having a terrible headache.

Once we arrived at work, I made sure Vova made it inside all right and told her I'd be back after I ran an errand or two. She seed satisfied by my extremely vague explanation of my planned activities for the morning and decided not to question me any further. I kissed her on the cheek and left.

About ten minutes later, I was standing in a familiar alley with my dealer friend that I mentioned previously. I didn't know his real name, so I simply called him Blix. He was a lanky looking Irken; standing about four foot nine with red, shining eyes and a crooked smile. He had a knife fight scar near his right eye and if it had of been any closer to it, he'd only have one eye. He was an okay type person, but you wouldn't be able to tell that just by looking at him.

"Hey Blix, what's happening with you these days?" I asked him.

"Oh, nothing much Colonel. But I can't complain." He'd called me "Colonel" ever since we got drunk together and I told him about the time I fragged my colonel out in the field because we were stranded and I was hungry. He should have given me that burrito. Ironically, the burrito was stale, but HE tasted pretty good. Anyway… he called me Colonel and I like it. It was nice to hear it come from somebody; even if that somebody was a degenerate drug dealer.

"So, how are you?"

"Not so good, you know," I said. "I'm out of the Vaxor12. Please tell me you got some more in."

"Oh, those little anti-psyche strips? Yeah, as luck would have it, a large shipment came in this week. They fell off the back of a conveyance pod, you know."

"How much you want per pack?" I asked.

"Twenty-five per; it's not reasonable, but it's not bad either. So?" He asked.

I thought of the monies I'd been "given" by the junkie in the quiet, little lobby and decided to get a few extra packs. With what I had planned today, I'd probably need 'em. After the "transaction", I had five packs and enough money for a paper and something to eat.

"I'll see you later Blix. I've got a prior engagement to see to."

He smiled. "Same here. I'm gonna' go have lunch with a good friend after I'm done with my other 'customers'."

So we parted ways. During my walk back, I stopped and bought a paper. I read it on the way back to the cafetorium. The Devastators from sector 40 won the series. There was another attempt on the Tallests, mainly Red, followed by mass executions; pretty typical news week.

When I walked inside, all the conversations stopped and most of the patrons stared at me. I gave them a quick glare and things went back to normal. I sat down in the corner booth with the best view of the kitchen and continued reading my paper. Occasionally, I'd glance up and have a look around. A nice little waitress came over asking for an order. I wasn't really hungry, so I ordered a small cup of coffee.

I continued watching the kitchen for the next few minutes. It wasn't too hard to find him. Gorn was an incredibly short Irken. He couldn't have been over four five. He had that look about him that most perverts have. His shifty little green eyes darted back and forth as he followed Vova. Every know and then, he'd grab her ass or try to look up her skirt and I'd sit there and watch. I'd sit there and plan.

It wasn't long before Vova turned around and told him to leave her alone. That's when it really started. Like a lightning bolt, he jumped up into the air and backhanded Vova across the face. Obviously, I was the only one who noticed because the rest of the place continued with its happy chatter as the kitchen staff busied itself with cooking. That's when Vova walked finally spotted me and walked over trying her damndest not to start sobbing right there. Right behind her was Gorn. He still had that little greasy smile on his face. He wouldn't for much longer.

Vova looked at me, the red handprint already beginning to rise on her face, and said, "Stiv, this is Gorn."

"You mean 'your boyfriend Gorn'! Don't you ya' filthy svelch!" He hissed. I sat there for a moment with my mouth slightly agape.

I cannot begin to tell you how ugly the word "svelch" is in the Irken language. I don't even think there is an equivalent to it in English. So, you can understand my shock. I looked at Vova and said, "Vova, go to the lav and wash your face. It'll talk to your LITTLE 'boyfriend' while you're gone." I emphasized the word 'little' and Gorn cringed when I said it.

"Stiv, please don't hurt him. Please!" She whispered under her shaking voice.

"Hurt me? Ha!" Gorn laughed.

"Just go wash up. Don't worry about him. Everything will be alright in a few minutes."

She hurriedly ran through the little door next to the kitchen. I looked deeply into Gorn's sickly, green eyes and said, "Gorn, I'm going to warn you this time. Don't EVER touch her again. You do not know what I'm capable of and you do not want to find out. Understand?"

"No! Why don't you make me understand!"

I had a feeling he'd try to be a bad ass. If only I hadn't still had that headache. If only I hadn't forgotten to take my meds. If only I had more patience. I never would have done what I did.

My foot shot out from under the table and forcefully collided with the little bastard's crotch. His knees buckled under him and he fell to the floor howling and clutching himself. While he was down, I picked him up by the neck and drug him back to the kitchen area. The whole way there, I rammed his head into any available objects of counter corners. I stood there for a moment, looking down at the now bleeding Gorn, before my gaze fell upon the grilling and frying area of the kitchen. He was almost unconscious by this point and didn't foresee what I was about to do to him. Everyone else just looked at me in panic. I don't thin they believed I'd do it.

I hefted Gorn up and gave him a good hard slapped across his broken jaw. He came screaming back to reality and I looked at him and smiled. "You still want me to MAKE you understand?" He shook his head. "Oh, I think you do! Look what you've made me do!" I quickly dislocated his right arm and stuck it into the deep fryer. He screamed louder this time. The sickly, sweet smell of burning flesh quickly registered in my mind. I had missed it so. I placed a hand over his mouth. "Shh, it's not that bad. You can't even feel it anymore!" I pulled out his withered, crispy arm and let it drop to his side. "Now, don't ever to touch Vova again. Not with that hand," I pointed to the cooked one, "or this one." I dislocated his other arm "Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Good. But just to make sure you do." I rammed his face down on the grilling cook top and held him there for a few moments. There was that smell again. When I pulled him up, most of the skin on his face was blackened and beginning to fall off. His left eye was severely burned.

I figured I'd made my point, and ensured my permanent disbarment from the eating establishment. I picked Gorn up and walked out the back door. Once in the alley, I poked Gorn in his functional eye, for good measure, and then stuffed him in the nearest dumpster and walked back inside. "Sorry, I forgot my paper," I said as I walked over to my table and neatly folded it up. I tucked it under my arm and headed for the door.

Just at that moment, Vova stepped out of the lav. She looked very worried. I smiled at her and said, "Everything's all right. I'll see you later."

"Okay."

Just before I left, I picked up a slice of pie that had been calling my name the entire time I'd been in there. I quietly and calmly walked out the back door with my paper and my pie. I could hear a low set of moans coming from the dumpster and thought I could hear approaching sirens in the distance.