XXXI

The Tubes

Peach smiled and cocked her head to one side, expecting a follow-up. The attendant was frozen in time with her mouth hanging open. It isn't everyday that a famous person wanders down into the Tubes, let alone the most famous person in the galaxy. A line of drool traced the inside of her cheek and fell down her lip. She caught it before it dribbled down her chin but she saw that the princess noticed and she whimpered as her cheeks turned a bright scarlet.

"It's okay," Peach said quickly. "Really." She reached into the front pocket of her hoodie and pulled out the small glass vial of the maple syrup sample from Pinna. She handed the vial to the attendant. "How long will it take you to sequence this?"

The attendant took the vial in both hands and rolled it over. It was rather viscous. She could tell by the way it clung to the glass, leaving a sticky film behind. She held it up to the fluorescent light above and took stock of its amber color. Strange, she thought and cocked an eyebrow. She was used to receiving the samples of galactic species. Humans and Kongs shared a similar composition of blood and urine. Toad blood tended to be paler in color due to their naturally low hematocrit. They were, quite literally, a thin-blooded people. The mesoglea of metroids was just water and collagen. Simple enough. But she had never seen anything like this from a living species before. She popped the cap and took a tentative sniff. Her brow fell and she felt bamboozled. Was the princess playing some kind of practical joke on her? "I don't mean to be rude, princess, but it's just maple syrup," she said, feeling dejected.

Peach gave a reassuring smile at the attendant's confusion. The attendant narrowed her eyes and studied her closely. She could see that her smile was warm and genuine. There was no malice or mischief in it. She shook her head and said, "I guess I don't understand what you're asking."

It's a long story and one that I don't feel the need to recite, if it's all the same to you," she said. "I need you to sequence this sample to see if there are any contaminants."

The attendant sighed. "It's a small sample. An hour, give or can have a seat in the waiting area."

Peach gave the attendant a small nod and sat on the sofa. On the oak table before her were a variety of print magazines that were yellowed at the edges. The dates in the top left of the covers indicated that they had sat there for decades. A monitor in the top right corner of the waiting room displayed the news. A dalmatian newscaster in a teal waistcoat and matching hat held a microphone to his snout as he droned about the day's current events.

"… said C-Sec Deputy Mitchell. Lady Bow is expected to face tribunal tomorrow morning where she will testify in front of the galactic council. If convicted of the alleged treason, she will be stripped of her rank as first-class spectre and receive a sentence of up to life in prison. This is Anchorman Rocky with Citadel News."

Maybe it was his monotone voice or maybe it was the way the chevron whirled headlines at the bottom of the page, but Peach felt suddenly exhausted. The sofa was pink and plush, which suited her just fine, and she realized just how soft it was. It seemed like forever since she sat down and it felt like the weight of her body melted away. It had been a long day running around through the cramped and crowded Presidium. The rush of it had worn off and now her eyelids were heavy and her chin began to bob towards her chest.

Outside, the alley was crowded with local fixers, wanderers who came out at night looking for another high. The man with the needle-point eyes, who was no man at all but rather a small purple rabbit, shoved his way through the crowd. Most of whom were too dazed and glassy eyed to notice. He had a large white sack slung over his shoulder. A homeless man, a clear-eyed regular Joe who was down on his luck, was relieving himself in a corner. The rabbit bumped into him, which knocked him off balance. He stomped his foot down to catch himself and sprayed on his pants.

"Hey, asshole," he called after the rabbit. "You made me piss down my pant leg." The rabbit, whose name was Nabbit, kept walking without so much as a glance. He was, after all, a rabbit of singular determination. The man zipped himself and gripped Nabbit's shoulder. "I know you heard me with those big ears." Nabbit angled his head towards the man who raised his fist. "That's right, asshole. Come get…"

He stopped short as Nabbit turned to face him. The handkerchief he wore over his face had the imprint of a smile with broad red lips and sharp white teeth. He rarely pulled the kerchief down but something about the man irked him. He was a task oriented creature and became easily agitated when something stood in the way of that task. He pulled down the kerchief and presented his grisly visage to the man. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of it. "Woah, man," he stammered. "I was just playing. Look at me, I piss on my leg all the time. We're good, I swear."

Nabbit pushed him up against the wall and pinned him with his hand wrapped around his throat. The man's hands shot up over his head out of instinct. He tried to move but the rabbit was impossibly strong. Nabbit glanced over his shoulder at the small police outpost and saw that the chubby toad officer was still snoozing. He turned back to the man who began to whimper.

"Don't. Just, don't." Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Nabbit clenched his fist closed on the man's windpipe and twisted. He felt the cartilage pop and tear away from the muscle. The man gagged and his eyes rolled back so that only the whites showed. Nabbit kept squeezing and his muscles trembled causing the man's head to bobble like a rag doll. He collapsed to the ground, dying silently among the squalor.

Nabbit approached the outside window of the Tubes and went on the tip of his toes. He allowed himself to feel a small joy at the sight through the window of Princess Peach alone and asleep on the couch.