Smoke Signals - A Jimmy Hapgood Yarn
On the outskirts of deep, uncharted space, a small alien ship cruised silently among the stars.
Inside the ship, at the helm, a dark haired human man in a silver spacesuit and a tan colored cowboy hat named Jimmy Hapgood kept a sharp lookout from underneath heavy eyelids. Finally, after hours of searching, he finally saw what he was looking for.
He popped an 8-track into the stereo he had ported over from his old ship, Travelin' Man, which was built on Earth in 1982, and as The Joker by The Steve Miller Band began to play throughout the cockpit, his new, spacecraft, Travelin' Man II, moseyed slowly towards an enormous pistol-shaped space station.
To say it was enormous is an understatement, it was awesome in scale. The docking bay that his ship eventually entered into was merely a pin prick on the station's facade.
Travelin Man II had a bit more movin' around room in it than Travelin Man I did, for one thing, it was a two-seater cockpit, which allowed Jimmy to have something he'd avoided having for many moons, a co-pilot. Sitting at his right was a large, cycloptic creature covered with shaggy, brown fur. He had sharp claws on his large paw-like hands and feet, and rough, dark skin on his face which was framed in even darker hair than his body. His species originally hailed from a planet called Priplanus, now destroyed, where they would sometimes grow to gigantic heights from eating the planet's native fruit. This particular one, though, was only a meager six foot, eight, and had been bred in captivity by a being known as The Keeper. Jimmy had rescued him from some particularly nasty Saticons who needed a good lesson in "animal rights", which they got from the end of Jimmy's laser pistol. It took a few space months, but Jimmy had taught Nork, which was the cyclops' name, to understand, but not necessarily speak, English, and also how to co-pilot Travelin' Man II.
He was an okay pilot too, although the ship did bank a little too much to the right as it set down on its three landing legs inside the space station's hanger.
Nork grunted.
"Don't fret none about it, pardner," said Jimmy in his thick Texas accent. "Ya can't hurt her none, you know these ol' Tauron wagons are tough."
Nork pulled a lever that locked the landing gear in place and then in unison he and Jimmy turned the keys that shut off the ship's deutronium engine.
"You stayin' here or you comin' in?" Jimmy asked after he had unstrapped himself from his chair and stood up.
"Gnnnarrr rraaarrrg ggra," said Nork, and he unstrapped himself too.
"Giddy up," said Jimmy.
Before disembarking the ship, Jimmy took off his hat and put on a red, white and blue striped space helmet instead. He knew that some of the entryways on this particular station were not always 100% airtight, and since so many alien species could breathe in the vacuum of space, it was an issue that rarely ever got fixed. After securing the helmet, Jimmy and Nork excited the ship and the two men walked down the gangway that connected the platform they were parked on to entrance 227 of the space station, although it would be more accurate to say that Nork lumbered, while Jimmy strutted in his old black cowboy boots that were covered in space dust.
Two metal doors swooshed open for them as they approached and they walked into a very large, very cold terminal where creatures of all shapes, sizes and colors mingled and chattered while they made their way in and out of shops and restaurants. Directly across from where the two men stood, Jimmy spied a familiar sight, a red neon sign that read, Stellar Aces.
He gave Nork a shot in the arm and indicated he should follow him, which Nork dutifully did. They walked up to a chrome-plated, oval shaped bar that was surrounded by empty stools. Behind it loomed a large, circular window that looked out upon the stars.
The bartender on duty was a young, thin, mostly humanoid woman, with long, red hair and mint green skin. She wore one large piece of fabric dyed with orange, green and purple stripes which was wrapped around most of her body forming sleeves and a miniskirt. On her long legs were shiny black go-go boots that went up to her knees. She had only two legs, but six arms. Her name was M-21 from the planet Anubulla and she knew Jimmy Hapgood well enough to know he was trouble when she saw him coming.
"Welcome, stranger," she said to him, playfully.
Jimmy took off his helmet as he sat down at the bar, then he pulled his crumpled hat out of it, gave it a couple swats and placed it on his sweaty head.
"Howdy, Em, long time no see," he said, smooth as a snort of lunar moonshine.
"What'll it be? Dranconian bourbon? Valarion gin? Cassiopeian wine?
"You still got that bottle o' whiskey I gave ya last time?" asked Jimmy.
Em smiled and reached under the bar with one of her lower arms. She elegantly placed a clear, unlabeled bottle of amber liquid in front of Jimmy.
"You're the only one who orders it," she said. "No one else can stand that Earth stuff."
"Mix it with some Scorpicola, no ice, and we're in business," Jimmy said with a wink.
"Sure thing," said Em, then she turned her attention to Nork, who sat down next to his friend.
"What'll it be, fuzzface?" she asked.
"Nnrrra ggrrrgggg grgrggraaa," he said.
"Coming right up," she said and went to the other side of the bar to fetch glasses.
Nork grabbed the whiskey bottle and uncorked it with his bucked fangs, while Jimmy reached into a pocket of his spacesuit and pulled out a corncob pipe.
"You can't smoke here, you know that," Em said when she returned with two tumblers. She gestured with one of her upper hands to a sign behind the bar that showed the silhouette of a humanoid with wavy lines coming off of it surrounded by a NO symbol.
"That's just for solarians," said Jimmy.
"That's for everyone," she said, firmly.
Jimmy laughed and contemplated his pipe.
"Yeah, I know," he said with a laugh. "Oxygen rich environment and all, besides, it's empty." He turned the pipe upside down to demonstrate.
"Still haven't found what you're looking for, huh?" Em said as she began to pour.
"Naw, right now all we're lookin' for is work," Jimmy said, gesturing to him and his buddy.
"Check the board," said Em.
She was referring to the many community cork boards displayed throughout the station where everything from job opportunities to personal ads and items for sale could be posted.
"That's why I'm here," said Jimmy, lifting his glass almost in a toast. "That and for the good company and fine spirits," he added.
"That stuff tastes like Centurion crocodile slime," Em said, leaning on the bar with her lower arms and bringing her face close to Jimmy's. "But as far as the company goes... I s'pose you're not so bad yourself." she said.
"Kkkaaarrnnnnnng arrrgggrrr," said Nork, holding up his own glass which sloshed all over the place.
"Yes, you too, Fuzzy," Em said, sweetly. Then she slinked away to go help another customer who had just arrived on the other side of the bar.
"Here's to our next adventure," said Jimmy, "Whatever and… wherever it may be." He and Nork clinked their glasses together, before Nork threw his down his gullet like it was nothin' and Jimmy watched with bemused respect.
"I told you what would happen if I saw your ugly face in this sector again," said a gurgly voice from between the two friends, suddenly. Jimmy turned to see one of the ugliest aliens he had ever had the misfortune to encounter.
"Handsome Gorg McGlurg," Jimmy said, like he was greeting an old friend.
"I ain't talkin' to you and you know it, human trash," said the man called Handsome Gorg. He eyeballed Nork, who had also turned to see what the noise was.
"Now, we all know you're the number one charmer 'round these parts, but even I think you could talk a little bit nicer, if'n you're lookin' fer an audience with my friend here," said Jimmy with a sly grin.
"Why not let your friend talk for himself," said Handsome Gorg. "Or can't he talk no more?" He continued to eyeball Nork.
"Grhhgrrahr," said Nork in response.
"You gotta lotta nerve talkin' to me like that," said Handsome Gorg. He bared his sharp yellow teeth and black gums at the cyclops.
Nork, in return, bared his own yellowed fangs.
Jimmy quickly jumped up and got between the two aliens.
"Now, now, gentlemen, this is a public place, lots of people just tryin' to live their lives and have a good time. If'n there's a score to settle, and I know there is, then I suggest we call it a duel and agree on a neutral planet to have it on," said Jimmy.
"Suits me," said Handsome Gorg.
"Nrraaakkk ggalllaaarrg," growled Nork.
"That does it," roared Gorg and he reached to draw a laser pistol at his hip. Nork was faster, though, as he stood up and grabbed Gorg by the space shirt and lifted him off the ground. He was a good three heads taller than the mouthy alien.
Gorg was still able to grip his pistol firmly, and before Nork could deliver a blow or throw him across the room, he lifted it between them and held it right at Nork's chin.
In the blink of an eye there was a buzzing sound and a bluish glow of light and before anyone knew what had happened Gorg began to convulse, overloaded by energy, and then he completely disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but a foul odor, which he had also arrived with.
From behind the bar, Em looked over at Jimmy in awe.
Jimmy blew into the barrel of his laser pistol, a gesture that was just for show, as the energy weapon emitted no smoke.
"It's okay, nothing to see here," Jimmy said to the nearby onlookers. Then he went over and patted his cycloptic buddy on the shoulder.
"It's ok, Nork," he said.
"Hgaannnaaark," said Nork.
"I know you didn't," said Jimmy.
"Impressive, Jim, but it's not as ok as you think," said Em, interjecting. That guy was a Kaloron, ya know. He'll just regenerate."
"Not til we're long gone, he won't," said Jimmy with a grin.
"Well, even so, Kalorons are notorious for holding grudges," Em said, and she began wiping a glass with two of her hands while pouring a drink with two others.
"If I was afraid of everyone who had a grudge against me comin' after me, I'd never have a moment's peace," countered Jimmy. "Hell, I dated a witch once."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" said Em, a hint of jealousy in her voice.
Jimmy eyed her for a moment and wondered if he'd maybe said the wrong thing, but then he downed his drink, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, slapped his thighs and announced, "Well, fun is fun, but now it's time for business, better go check them boards." He turned and moseyed over to the nearest one while Nork stayed and nursed his drink.
There were the usual notices posted: a couple beat up old ships for sale, some wanted posters for guys with names like Buck Duane, Pleiades Pete, Zeno and the like. There were only two job offerings though, one opening for a deutronium minor and two openings for ranch hands.
"Guess it's home on the range for us again," Jimmy said to himself.
He snatched the paper off the board, folded it and put it in his pocket. Then he went and collected his friend who was already drunk off his one drink.
"Time to be hittin' the ol' dusty trail," he said to Em, while Nork leaned against him, almost knocking down.
"When will I see you again?" she asked.
"Oh, I dunno, as soon as the winds change," said Jimmy, trying to sound stoic and mysterious.
"I'll keep the home fires burning," teased Em as she poured some fire water into a shot glass.
Jimmy took it, threw it back, then yelled, "Yee Haw!" and hobbled off under the weight of the big one-eyed galoot.
Em watched him go, and then looked down at the spot where he had sat, his usual spot, where the words "HAPGOOD WAS HERE!" had been carved into the countertop of the bar.