Chapter 19

B.E.N and I waded around the lot of the medical centre, a few ships and crafts hovered in the slots. The area where the ship took off left a few scorches of blackness on the tarmac, the smell of fuel lingering.

My heart was silent as was my mind; there was no lead apart from Viscardi Denholm. How have I not heard the name before, yet it sounded eerily familiar?

"Anything?" I asked B.E.N as he pinched a trace of debris from the floor and scanned it on his panel, eureka moment passed through his eyes as he reached an answer.

"Their ship is a LT-GR 0002 Maniac, and is known for light-year speed jumping galaxies."

"B.E.N, you are amazing!" I hugged him impulsively, and as always when he got a rare hug, he clung back for dear life, exhaling uselessly but for emphasis. I rolled my eyes. "Are there any licenced to Montressor?"

He looked puzzled as he typed at his panel. "My guess would be correct to no, there would be no need for galactical spaceships to be on Montressor." He placed his panel back and eyed me.

He was damned right. This is a small planet and in no need for high speed ships, but there would surely be some at the Spaceport? Yet if I went there it'd be a waste of time, and it'd be unlikely they would stop by as it was a space jumping ship, certainly it would jump to its destined galaxy.
But how do I find it?

"You okay, Jim?" I held a hand out to B.E.N as I scrunched up my face in any hope it would help me think faster. No solutions were coming.

"If I may interject your thoughts, jimmy, there are cameras at the side of the centre pointed at the lot. Perhaps it caught the same ship!" B.E.N pointed cheerily.

I smirked to myself. Of course B.E.N would find a way to solve my problems, just like always. Not always the well thought out, but when he was useful, it would be in great amounts. "You are a genius!"

"They don't call me Bio-Electronic-Navigator for nothing!"

"That only applies when you're flying, B.E.N."

We were headed for the secured area by large wooden doors in the centre by the reception. Private written in big block letters across the top on the wall, a security pad on the side. The receptionist from earlier looked at me warily as she had noticed my behaviour from running down the hall about 15 minutes ago. Seems she is yet to know I still had Dr Lionel tied up in his office.

"I need to distract the receptionist as you run through her computer to find the code for the doors." I whispered at B.E.N as we were waiting around the corner, a horrible yet convincing plan creeping in my mind.

"And how would we do that?" B.E.N looked at me curiously, the silent whirring of his mechanics making me feel slightly on edge. I am used to adventure by now, how is his whirring making me feel giddy now?

"Don't worry about that, just make sure when she leaves her spot," I pulled off my jacket, the soreness of my shoulder was ceasing, unfortunately. A slight stain was visible on my shirt, good thing it wasn't fully healed. "You jump on her computer and do your thing."

"Search for the passcode." I nodded and braced my entire body.

This was going to hurt.

I walked nearby the entrance and fully swung my damaged shoulder far backwards, if I had the hearing of an Urkin, (an alien with large, scaled ears that could just hear the sound of rushing of blood through bodies) I'd hear the charred skin of the wound crack and split open like the sound of biting a nut shell. Pain filled me from the tips of my ears to the soles of my feet, the nerves pulsating as I saw lights behind my closed eye lids.

I shrieked in pain as I hit the floor, clutching my arm, coughing out curses that my mother would cry at and Amelia would punch me for.

A few patients waded over to me, and at long last, the receptionist. Her bright eyes cautiously caught mine as she lightly touched my side.

"Don't worry; I called a Dr to come straight away!" Her breathing was rushed but professional, as if she had seen this much blood before as it bloomed across my shirt, so much so that it dripped and made a pleasant pool on the white floor.

I had been carted to an office and when the Dr was finished with me, left me to rest. He had used the same instrument that Dr. Lionel had used on me. The iron that blazed like a fire was as painful as the first time, searing freshly formed scar tissue was unbearable I was given a wad of cotton to bite into.

I lay crippled until B.E.N had knocked on the window just outside, his knocks rampant I was afraid he'd draw attention and break the window.

"Manage it?" I opened the window and he fumbled his way in.

"JIMMY!" He hugged me, I grunted from the sudden flourish of agony blinded me. "That was folly of a plan!"

"Did you manage it, though?" I asked more persistently as I pushed him away, cupping my shoulder that began throbbing once again. I found my stained shirt at the foot of the medical bed I rested and carefully slipped it back on. The blood around the wound was damp.

B.E.N opened his panel and there, the recorded image of the lot came clear, the metallic brown sides of triangular panelling with what looked like laser-proof glass at the front of the craft, its wings lined with black and gold, plenty of dents and pockets of damage to verify it wasn't a residential vehicle. Yet, there was no serial number near the front of the ship, rendering up listless, just I had feared.

I smacked the table near me and cursed, a dribble of sweat peddled down the bridge of my nose from the pain.

"Jim, maybe you should rest?" B.E.N lightly patted my back as I bent over the desk, my joints shaking from my weight.

As always, I hated it when this hunk of metal was right.