The alien ship had a much smoother take off than Earth ships. In fact, Ofelia didn’t even have to hang on to something as they broke through the atmosphere and entered orbit around Eden Twelve. As far as living conditions were concerned, as a cruise ship, The E.C.S. Chance would have received an F in the Mosley’s Guide to Space Travel. For one thing, Larry, Moe and Curly and whatever species they belonged to were all a lot shorter than the human race. Anyone over five feet tall had a cramped neck and a bruised head. Many of the compartments were only accessible through hatches and ladders.
Beds were more like hammocks and were strung in long rows, three feet high. After the first sleep rotation, Ofelia decided that beds were not first come, first serve. The heaviest, tallest people were assigned the lower bunks and the youngest, shortest people got to either climb or be hoisted into the top ones to sleep.
A nursery was also set up so any children under five wouldn’t disturb the masses of people sleeping, if they could manage with all the coughing, snoring, and shuffling in the main dorm.
It also became apparent that they needed an activity director, and not just to keep the kids busy. Even the adults couldn’t seem to keep still. Surrounded by the alien technology, and the tight spaces, uneasiness grew amonst the colonists. Ofelia elected herself to the position and scoured the ships for decks of cards or board games to set up tournaments. Jack graciously lent his Old Earth game collection which gangs of teenage boys spent hours in front of, pushing buttons.
Ofelia organized daily contests, theme days, and group readings. Everyone was eager to chip in their daily ideas for a name for the new planet, especially when they heard the current name was Diknicpicslickatrick.
Some strange person decided to write a book in fifteen days. “I’ve got nothing better to do,” he said. Every eight hours, he read a new chapter or two to his growing audience. They were enthralled with his Old Earth story about two private investigators in 1980’s Hollywood.
On theme days, people scrounged through their meager possessions to find any outfit even vaguely related to the theme. The most popular seemed to be Talk Like a Pirate Day, when the entire colony went wandering around the ship shouting “Argh!” “Avast me hearty,” and other such piratical nonsense.”
The games really seemed to help lighten the mood, and by Day 9, things were going rather smoothly as far as keeping people busy went. The largest problem that Ofelia delt with was quite surprising in a way. Tyler was following Jack around the ship, asking as many questions as he thought he could get answered. This wasn’t the real problem, though. It was more of the fact that Jack tended to hang out with Ofelia and for once, Tyler was tagging along, giving her strange looks the whole time. They tended to alter from rightious indignation to injured puppy dog.
Ofelia had to keep reminding herself that she hadn’t done anything wrong. She even stopped smiling anywhere in his vicinity just to make sure she wasn’t sending the wrong signals. She’d made it clear that she wanted Rex over Tyler. Tyler couldn’t seem to accept the fact.
After bumping into her on the way up to the cockpit – they all took purple red light watching shifts – he put a steadying hand around her waist.
“Sorry, sweetheart. After you.”
It sent prickles up her spine. She grabbed the ladder rung and glared back at him.
“Don’t call me that.”
He pushed into her, putting his hands over hers on the rung, preventing her from climbing.
“You didn’t seem to mind when he called you that,” he whispered in her ear.
“Tyler, let go. I mean that in every sense of the words.”
“I understand that a girl may need to feel the urge to experiment bfore settling down. I don’t blame you.”
“I hate to break the news to you, but you were the experiment… a failed experiment.”
He ignored this and began kissing her neck. One hand moved to her hips.
“I’ve been watching the two of you,” he said against her neck. “And I realized that you’re the type of girl who likes for her man to take charge.”
Ofelia was elated slightly by the realization that he was completely wrong. Sure, she liked it when Rex took charge, and if he had been here now, she would have melted into her socks. Instead, she only felt growing annoyance at Tyler’s attempted seduction.
“Look, Tyler,” she said, swiveling around to look him in the eye. She saw her mistake when Tyler dove in for a kiss. His tongue danced at her closed lips and his hand held her chin as she tried to pull away.
She opened her mouth and his tongue slid in. She bit down. Hard. Tyler pushed away from her and yelled. She didn’t pause to check the damage. She clambered up the ladder, popped up through the hatch and slammed it closed, pushing the button marked lock.
“Whoah… someone’s in a hurry,” Jack said as he swiveled around in the pilot’s chair.
“I think I just bit your brother’s tongue off.”
“What was his tongue doing in your mouth.”
“Going where it didn’t belong. I’d like to see how he explains that one to Doc Martin.”
“You think he’ll need stitches?”
“I hope so. Maybe it will teach him a lesson.”
Jack laughed. “He seems to be in the learning mode. He now knows almost as much about this ship as I do. I just didn’t expect he’d ever let me teach him anything. He kind of has a problem with letting anyone else make the rules.”
“Oh, you noticed? Why doesn’t he just go attach himself to one of those girls he bonked between dates with me? I’m sure they’d all be more willing.”
“You know about them?”
“You told me about them. You know, if you have such memory loss, you’d better stay away from the alcohol.” Jack blushed and she giggled and then blushed with him when she remembered what had happened later that night with Rex.
“I’m thinking seriously about siccing Rex on Tyler. If he throws you around for interrupting… things, then imagine what he’d do if I told him about a tongue in my mouth.”
“Just be careful. Don’t forget who’s driving the ship back to pick Rex up. You don’t want Tyler to accidentally leave him behind.”
“My mom wouldn’t let him.”
Jack simply shrugged his shoulders, but the idea had been planted in Ofelia’s head. Tyler was apt to take his revenge out on Rex on the return voyage. That only left Ofelia with two options: to suck it up and be nice to Tyler, apologizing profusely for the accident, or send an encoded vid to her mother, telling her to keep an eye on him. Maybe it would be overkill, but Ofelia decided to try both. Then at least, if she couldn’t keep a civil tongue, pun intended, then she would at least have her mom as a backup plan.
Everything worked pretty well until Day 14. Up until that time, Tyler had been avoiding her for a change. The day before they arrived, however, Tyler sat himself in the back of one of the larger Rec rooms where Ofelia had been asked to judge an art contest for the eight to twelve year olds.
“Captain Clovelly!” One of the little kids ran up to her holding a picture of a purple dog with a really long tail. “Look at my animal! It’s going to be on our new planet.”
“That’s very good,” Ofelia said. Suddenly all the kids were clamouring for her attention, pressing their drawings at her. A hush fell over the crowd and all the little eyes stared up at the grumpy man. He spoke slowly to maneuver his swollen tongue.
“She is not Captain Clovelly.”
One brave soul stepped forward. She had a green house on her paper... and a horse. “My mommy said she was Captain Clovelly. She said that when the other Captain Clovelly stayed behind to watch the horsies, that this Captain Clovelly would watch us. She’s in charge.”
“I’m in charge!” Except with his swollen tongue it came out more like, “Irmansharge!” which the little girls mistook for a monstrous growl. They all ran screaming in different directions.
Forgetting her promise to be nice, Ofelia scowled at Tyler.
“They’re children, for goodness sakes. Don’t yell at them. They don’t understand.”
he yelled again.
“Whatever.” Suddenly remembering Rex, Ofelia took a deep breath and counted to ten before plastering her fake customer service smile on her face.
“Tyler, no one is trying to dispute anything. Just because one mother explained to her scared little girl the reason why my mother was staying behind and used me as an excuse to calm her fear does not make me captain.”
Tyler didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was seriously grim and suspicious, which is why, a moment later a mom was easily able to locate “The Crazy Monster Man” who was going to eat Captain Clovelly.
“What kind of business do you have, trying to scare my little Milly? Nobody yells at my children but me!” The mom, five foot tall on a good day, glared up at Tyler who automatically straightened up at being yelled at. He hit his head on the ceiling.
Ofelia back away. If Tyler wanted to be captain, he was going to have to learn how to deal with irate mothers.
“Look. I didn’t yell at your daughter.”
“That’s a downright lie. Are you calling my daughter a liar? Excuse me?” The mother said to get the attention of everyone else in the room, though she already had it. All eyes were staring at the pair rapt with attention. Even the teenage boys had stopped pressing buttons so long, that Ofelia was sure they were about to chant, “Fight, fight, fight.” The mother continued after looking around.
“Did anyone else hear this man yell at my daughter?”
Twenty hands raised in the air. “You gonna call all of them liars too?”
Tyler glared at the hands, but not one went down.
“I yelled at her,” he said, pointing at Ofelia, who’d taken a seat at a poker table.
“And because you’re yelling at Captain Clovelly, that makes your behavior okay?”
“I’m Captain! Irmansharge!”
With a bravery that Ofelia could only credit to being a mother of four, the petit woman reached up and grabbed Tyler by the ear.
“Over my dead and decrepit body!” she said as she tugged on his ear. He bent over double with a yowl. When he quieted, she said calmly. “You will lower your voice. You will speak in an appropriate manner, and you will apologize to Captain Clovelly. Can you comply?” When he said nothing, she tugged harder.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. She let go and he stood up, hitting his head once more on the ceiling. It was almost too fun to interrupt. Ofelia stood.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Reynolds, but technically, he’s right. He is the First Officer, and in the absence of the captain, he is in charge.”
“He doesn’t do anything,” she stated. It was true. He spent half of his time learning about the ship, and the other half hiding away in his private quarters. He hadn’t helped or participated in any of the activities she’d arranged on board.
“Any way you look at it, I’m not Captain Clovelly. That will always be my mother.”
“And when she’s gone? Who will lead us then? Him?” The him in question glared back at her rubbing his ear, but remained silent.
“By the time my mom is gone, I’m sure we’ll have a new leader that will rise to take charge. Maybe even one of your daughters will take up the office when my mom’s ready to retire.” The flattery worked, and soon Ofelia and Mrs. Reynolds were back talking about art to the children. Tyler had gone back to his cabin to sulk.
11/16/2005
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