In Favour of Fools: A Science Fiction Comedy (These Foolish Things Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter 34
- Then the squeeze

(
The heavy grey clouds scattered their blessings across the verdant valley as he strode up the steep incline. With his jewelled sword at his side and his multi-facetted buckler across his back, he felt ready for anything that the Gridlings could throw at him. Whatever the cost to himself, he would protect the peaceful folk of The Hidden Valley. As a Pixie Prince, it was no more than his duty and the rules of Honour brooked no weakness on his part.

At the head of the valley, he paused, wondering if he would ever witness this glorious scene again.

Then he smiled a grim little smile and whistled for his white steed....

See; now that's proper writing. Read more at www.pixiesaregreat .univ.com. NF)

‘Thanks for agreeing to meet me.’

‘Your message didn’t leave me much choice.’

Masters sighed.

‘Your son does you credit. He’s a fine young man, though he can be a little cheeky.’

‘Alan usually says what’s on his mind, and he doesn’t like this business.’

‘This ‘business’ is going to make us all very rich; I can promise you that.’

‘We don’t need to be any richer. The fee you paid will cover us for a long time yet.’

‘There’s no such thing as enough money, Jack. You have a son and a young daughter; there are always unforeseen expenses. You want to set them up for life, don’t you?’

‘The land will suffice, Mr. Masters. They really don’t need anymore.’

They’d walked back into the Squirtport’s main concourse and were continuing towards the coffee shop. Masters draped one arm over the smaller man’s shoulders. He squeezed; just a little.

‘Let me make things very clear to you, Jack. I wouldn’t want you to be under any sort of misapprehension about the choices that are open to you. Here, take a seat; I’ll get the coffees.’

At the bar, the barista was ready with the first of his seven questions; only to be thwarted by Masters’ request.

‘Two coffees, Son. Black and strong, with milk and sugar on the side. And I don’t want anything special done to the coffee. I don’t want to know where the beans come from, or how they were blended, and if I want anything to go with my drink, I’ll ask for it.’

‘Yes, sir.’ He sprang into action.

With the coffees served in record time, Masters carried them to the table.

‘OK, Jack. Let me explain the situation to you, in terms you’ll understand. We negotiated a great deal between us, and you are now quite rich. I have a number of interested parties who want to buy the product from me at a price I am very happy with. So, everything’s good, you might think. But you should realise that these people are businessmen. They don’t want a one off deal, no matter how lucrative. It would just give them a spike in earnings that they would have to try to match next year. If they fail to do that; they’ll look bad to their investors, and you can see that that would not be good business practice, can’t you.’

‘But that’s…’

Masters held up one hand.

‘Don’t say it, Jack. Don’t even think it. This is your business; it became your business the moment you took the money from me. So, we have to work between us to find a way to keep those investors happy.’

He sat back in his chair and slurped his coffee.

‘So, what do you think? Any bright ideas? Any solution you can think of that doesn’t entail a continuous supply of gil-juice from you to me to them? I’d be glad to hear it if you do, Jack. I don’t want to play the bad guy. You might not think it to look at me but I really am a sensitive soul. Which is why, when I am obliged by circumstances beyond my control to inflict pain and suffering on people who are being deliberately obtuse, it hurts me too.’

‘We had a one off deal, Masters. I’m going to say thanks for the coffee and walk back to my truck and get the hell out of here.’

‘Very well said, Jack. I believe you, but you haven’t moved yet, have you? Is the coffee so good that you can’t bear to leave it behind? Or are you waiting for me to make my threats, to stop you leaving? Is your objection just good form, or do you really mean it?'

There was a long a pause when nothing actually happened.

‘OK,' continued Masters. 'I’m not going to make obvious threats; let me just say, you have a very pretty daughter, and a brave son. Let’s work together to ensure they stay safe. That’s all I’m going to say at this point.‘

He knocked the last of his coffee back, and pursed his lips.

‘Why can’t they make a good simple, straightforward coffee in these places? It’s all they do; make coffee; you think it wouldn’t be too much to expect.'

He looked down at Jack and smiled.

‘Now, I’m going to give you a little time to reflect on your situation, and maybe develop your own workarounds. I’ll see you again when I’m next on Greenhaven, which will be in a couple of days, and then we can discuss delivery schedules and terms. When we have everything set up, you won’t have to soil yourself in meeting me again, unless something goes wrong. And you should be very careful to ensure that does not happen.’

He lifted himself out of his chair and nodded.

‘See you soon.’

He resisted the temptation to whistle as he left the coffee shop.

He knew he had the guy, but it was bad form to show it.

Jack stared into his cold, black coffee, wondering how he was going to tell Alan.

We were there again, at Manchester’s Squirtport. This time it appeared that we were queuing up to join a queue. No-one knew what the delay was, but then, you never do, do you?

Strange was dressed in his usual dark tight suit, with a tie and sharp shiny shoes.

‘Isn’t it hot where we’re going?’ I asked, standing beside him in my jeans and T-shirt.

In answer, he removed his sunglasses from his top pocket and put them on. Problem solved; apparently.

In my shoulder bag, I had the highest factor sun-cream I could get and the emergency pack Julie told me to get. It seemed at bit of an over-kill to me; I wasn’t going to be anywhere that was at all dangerous, was I? I’d make certain of that. At the first hint of danger; well, that was what Strange was for.

‘Can we get something to eat?’ Sometimes Strange makes me feel like a child. Strike that; he always makes me feel that way.

He sighed and checked his timepiece.

We bought a couple of burgers with all the trimmings, and jumbo sized bad coffees and settled ourselves down cosily at a corner table. It was already occupied as we approached, but something made the two guys finish up abruptly and vacate the table before we reached them. Strange has that effect on people.

‘How did you get into this line of work?’ I had to say something; we were sharing a meal and that’s what people do.

‘What line of work is that?’ That’s what I thought he said. He was talking through a very big chunk of beef, so it was hard to be certain.

I shrugged and nibbled at my food.

‘Y’know; looking after Mrs. Masters and that.’

There was no response, apart from the frown, but he was always frowning at me, so I had no idea if it could be called a response. Unless it was an escalation in his frowns from defcon stage two: did you really say that? To defcon stage three: you are a waste of those pants. I just hoped he wouldn’t move on to defcon four: right, I’ve had enough, I’m going to kill you!

‘What would you say is your job title?’ I continued, as social etiquette seemed to be triumphing over survival instinct.

He put down his burger, and wiped his mouth. I knew I’d gone too far.

‘I’m a facilitator,’ he said, quietly.

I wanted to tell him that I had my own facilitator, but I didn’t think he’d be impressed.

‘I see. When did you start facilitating? What qualifications did you need?’

‘I think it’s time for us to go and stand in a queue.’

Probably a good idea if we stood in different lines, I thought.

An hour later, the line moved forward one pace, and then it stopped for another hour.

Eventually the nightmare was over and we reached the squirtbooth, just in time for the new one to begin.

At last, we arrived on Greenhaven, with my particles mostly intact. I guess you never know how much damage is done to your body in each squirt, until the day you arrive at your destination as a cheese and ham sandwich.

‘I’m going to make a few calls. You do whatever it is you do, and we’ll meet back here in two hours.’

No ‘how’s that for you?’ or ‘do you have any better ideas?’ He just assumed that I’d go along with whatever he said, which was correct, but that doesn’t make it right, does it?

I walked over to the booking desk to work my magic whilst Strange strode off full of purpose and intent. I wish I could do that; not everyone can, it seems.

The guy at the desk was reading a book. It must have been a very good book as he found it hard to drag himself away from it to attend to me. I did wonder if it was my book
.(Our book. N.F.)
‘Excuse me,’ I tried.

Very, very slowly, he put his book down and looked up at me. I could see him struggling with the mammoth task of thinking up a response so, in a fit of generosity, I helped him.

‘I’m looking for this man. Have you seen him?’ I showed him a picture of Masters on my wrist-top.

‘This is a tourist information desk, sir.’ He was finally up to speed.

‘I know; there’s a sign above you head.’ He looked up, as if he’d never noticed it before. ‘Still, have you seen this man?’ I knew it was a long shot, but he could have tried.

‘Would Sir like a brochure covering the various sights available to him during his visit? Or perhaps Sir would like to purchase an emergency survival pack?’ I’m not really sure why he’d switched to the third person, but I wasn’t about to let him off that lightly.

‘I have some money here which I will be happy to give to you for information concerning the whereabouts of this man.’

Given that he had probably never been offered a bribe before, and his significant lack of interest previously, he responded with commendable alacrity to my offer.

‘Let me have another look, Sir.‘ He studied the screen intently and there was something about the way he screwed up his face that showed how hard he was trying to come up with the right answer.

‘Sorry, I don’t recognise him.’ There were tears in his eyes.

‘Thanks for trying,’ I said, and gave him some money anyway; for his trouble. I know; I’m a fool to myself, but that’s just how I am.

As I walked away from his desk, it struck me that I had no idea what to do next. How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found on an alien planet with maybe two hundred thousand humans spread across its vast continents? See, there’s no obvious answer, is there?

I wandered outside, and rushed straight back inside. The heat! You wouldn’t believe it; it was like walking into a furnace.

How does anyone function in that heat?

I was still lounging around the concourse when Strange came back.

‘How did you do?’

‘Not quite there,’ I replied; not wanting to admit to my failure.

‘Well; not to worry,’ he said; which caused my worry levels to jump. ‘I’ve made a few calls and I know where he is.’

‘That’s great news.’ It was great news, I thought. I can go home, I thought. Whoopee, I thought.

‘We can squirt over there right now.’

‘We? You don’t need me now you’ve found him. I’ll just leave you to do whatever it is you do. Goodbye and...’

I stopped because he was shaking his head with that ‘you’ve got it all wrong’ look on his face.

‘We’re both going. I need you with me.’

‘But why? There’s nothing else I can offer.’

He looked around the concourse, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses.

‘Let’s find a bar and have a drink. We need to talk.’

I felt my insides turn to water. Twice in my life before that point has someone told me ‘we need to talk’, and it’s never worked out well. Not for me, anyway. It doesn’t matter if it’s not my fault, if it’s not about me. I’m sorry, but if it’s my heart that’s bleeding, and I’m the one crying in the corner, then it is about me.

Enough of the melodrama. We found a bar; plastic and charmless, and it had a nice range of exotic beers. Strange told me to grab a table whilst he chose the beer.

I sat at the table and waited; feeling tense and nervous and ready to run at the slightest provocation.

I sank the first half of the pint in one go and stared deep into its wonderful goldenness.

‘I have a plan, and to make it work, I need your help. Ben knows me well, but he doesn’t know you. If you approach him, his guard will be down.’

I wanted to say that this has nothing further to do with me, thanks for the pint and goodbye, and then stride forcefully from the bar.

‘What’s the plan?’ Was what I actually said.

‘Ben is selling a batch of gil-juice, to the highest bidders, and I’ve just made the highest bid, under an assumed name, of course. When you go and meet him to seal the deal, we’ll get both Ben and the gil-juice.’

‘What will happen to Masters?’

‘Nothing to do with you. That’s between me, Mrs. Masters and Ben. You’re a diversion.’

‘How long have you known about this?’ Things were beginning to click into place. I can be slow, but I usually get there in the end.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You haven’t just thought this plan up since you’ve been here, have you? Has this been your aim from the start? To use me to entrap him so you can rob him and kill him? I’m not going to be a party to that; not at all. I’m leaving and there is nothing you can do to stop me.’

If I had fitted my actions to my words and strode forcefully out of the bar, I might have got away with it. But I hesitated as if I expected Strange to grab me and forcefully restrain me; may be throw me to the ground and crush my ribs with one heavy boot. In the end, he didn’t need to touch me. All it took was a slight shake of his head, the removal of his sunglasses, and a few softly spoken words.

‘Stay where you are, Phil.’ I did. ‘Calm yourself down.’ I couldn’t. ‘If you will listen to me for a moment, I’ll explain the situation to you.’ I listened.

‘You are in a very precarious position. And so are your sister, your mother, and your father. And not just from me. You are aware of the interest of Dart and Co? Of course you are. If you help me in this task, not only will there be no danger to you, or your family, from me; I will also intercede with Dart on your behalf; there’s plenty to go around. If, however, you jeopardise this operation in any way, then I’m sure I don’t have to say anymore.’

He didn’t; I knew that I was stuck in this mess without a hope of escape.

When Mrs. Masters came to see me, saying that her suspicions were aroused by my tardy bill delivery, was that just a ruse? Was her invite to her home part of that? Exactly when did they start playing me? Was this endgame in place from the very beginning?

I guessed that I would never know.

But, far more important to me, how long could I run with these animals and still expect to keep my beautiful hide in one piece?