Deadrock (6 page)

Planetary Earth Date: 14.7.2015

She really has
a beautiful neck, thought Max. He stared at a tiny tendril of golden red curls
that escaped from Nickie's ponytail. He imagined how soft it would feel.

"Okay,
Max? Max?" said Nickie.

"Uh,
what?" he said. Nickie and Bird were staring at him.

"I said,
Mr. Bird can stay here and input donations and you can go out with me to pick
up some things. Okay?"

"Yeah,
good. Real good," said Max. Cool, Max. Very cool, he thought. Now she's
going to think you're a real dizbecile.

A painfully
thin woman in silvery spike heels tip-tapped to the entry of their cubicle. "Nickie,
dear," she said, "have you written the online press release for your
little treasure hunt, yet?"

"It's a
time capsule ceremony, Gloria. And no, I haven't done it yet. Powers just asked
me to do it this morning."

Max noticed
that Nickie's neck became noticeably pinker.

"I know
you're inexperienced, Nickie. If you can't handle it, I'll do it for you."

Red, thought
Max. Now her neck is definitely red.

"I can
handle it, Gloria! You just worry about those overdrafts the bank called about."

"I've
already looked into it, dear. Your father just forgot to transfer funds again
last month," said Gloria.

Max raised his
eyebrows to Bird at this news. Bird raised his eyebrows in imitation, as if Max
were playing a game.

"But Dad
said you took over paying the vendors," said Nickie.

"Now
where would he get an idea like that?" said Gloria. She shifted her weight
onto one tiny spike heel and swiveling to leave, noticed the two detectives for
the first time. She eyed them curiously through ice blue, half-closed lids.

Max thought
she was the strangest-looking woman he'd ever seen.
Eight-five
pounds of bone and sinew forced into a glittery silver minidress.
All
topped with a long, platinum bouffant hairdo that was incredibly wide and high
at the sides and top, but completely flat at the back. She reminded Max of
those illustrations in Grandma's antique Mother Goose books.
The
one with the dish that ran away with the spoon.
She looks like the
spoon, thought Max.

"And
Nickie, dear, I'm going to need completed insurance forms for these workers by
five tonight, so if you can't do it…" Gloria said, taking in the detectives'
identical blue and white checked pajama bottoms, orange t-shirts emblazoned
with the words
The Gap
, and Mets
baseball caps.

Max squirmed
under her gaze. I wish Bird hadn't insisted on wearing the same clothes as me,
he thought. At least he didn't wear the cap with the beer cans and attached
straws.

"I said I'll
do it, Gloria!" said Nickie.

"No need
to get into a snit, dear. I'm just doing my job," she said tip-tapping out
of the cubicle.

Nickie opened
her mouth with a ready reply when Ted called, "Nickie, come over here! We're
ready to drink a toast!"

"Our
millionth order just shipped today," she explained to Max and Bird. The
two watched from the doorway as she joined her father, Gloria, and a man
dressed in white trousers, a navy blue blazer and a captain's hat. The Captain's
right hand was bandaged in bulky white gauze.

Max watched
Ted hug Nickie. "So how old would you say she is?" he asked Bird.

"I don't
know. Eighteen. Nineteen."

"Oh. She
looks younger."

They watched
Ted grapple with a plastic champagne glass. He tried to force the stem of the
glass into the base, shattering it. Gloria laughed at Ted's fumbling, placed
her long, bony hand on his arm, and handed him a new, assembled glass. Nickie
bristled at Gloria's attention and motioned to the two detectives to join her.

The man with
the bandage poured the sparkling cider and offered them each a glass. Ted ran
his hand through his unruly hair and finished his story.

"It's so
strange, though, if it hadn't been for the old lady, that Boy Scout and I would
be history."

"Oh, Dad,
not that again," said Nickie, blushing. "Dad's been sort of
accident-prone lately. Everybody, this is John Look-For-A-Bird and Max
Livingstone. They're going to help me get things for the vault."

Ted smiled and
shook hands with the two. Max tried not to look at the gaps on his misbuttoned
shirt.

"Welcome!"
said the Captain. "We run a tight ship but a happy one."

"Fortunately,
I brought Dramamine," whispered Bird.

"This is
Powers Presnell," said Nickie, pointing to the Captain. "And his
secretary, Gloria Steele." Powers offered his left, unbandaged, hand.

"What
happened to your hand?" asked Bird.

"He sla-"
started Gloria.

"Nautical
accident," interrupted Powers. He downed his drink and glanced at his
Rolex watch. "Back to work! Captain to the bridge! Full steam ahead!"
he said, making shooing motions to everyone.

"Let's
go, Max," said Nickie. "Mr. Bird, please get started on inputting
that list I gave you. We'll be back after lunch."

Max paused a
moment to whisper into Bird's ear, "Remember, trail Ted but don't be obvious.
And don't get into trouble!"

"No
problem, boss," said Bird. On the way to his cubicle, he jumped up and
batted the rump of the red paper mache rat. It spun wildly. "Lookin' good,
Big Red!" he said to the rat.

Max gave him a
doubtful look,
then
followed Nickie's beautiful neck
out the door.

Later, Nickie
checked off an item in her red phone and handed Max the latest purchase, a
fishing pole. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he shifted
the handles of shopping bags. Gnartz, it's hot, he thought. It must be 33
degrees Celsius. And I'm getting thirsty. Doesn't she ever stop for a break? He
stepped under an awning and walked along its shade.

"You
okay?" asked Nickie.

"Me? Hey,
great!" said Max.

She thinks I'm
a shopping cart, he thought. I've followed her on the old-fashioned sidewalks
of New York without conveyors or the Uptown Slide for two hours now and I can't
get her to even notice me. Try to get her to talk about herself, Max, he
thought. But be subtle. And cool.

"So, you
married or anything?" he said, cringing to himself. To his amazement, she
laughed.

"Right, I'm
only seventeen, you know."

He was wrong
about her eyes. He had thought they were brown but now in the sunshine, he
could see they were
more green
. Green-brown…what was
the word?

"Hazel!"
he said aloud. She looked at him like he had lost his mind. Good, thought Max.
Very cool.

They were in
front of a department store window. Nickie looked from Max to the two dresses
in the window. "Oh, I get it, yeah, hazel is a big color for fall."

"That
blue one's better," said Max pointing to a sundress.

"Too
casual. I need to be taken seriously in the office. But…that blue is so pretty,"
said Nickie.

 
"Yep, that's your dress, that's the
one!" said Max. Why do men always say shopping with women is so difficult,
he thought.

"No,
definitely inappropriate!" she said dismissing it.

Because
shopping
is
so difficult with women,
he thought.

They moved on
to the next store, a vacuum cleaner repair. "Should we get a vacuum? I
mean will people a hundred years from now use vacuums?
Or a
Dustbuster or something?
What do you think?

"A
dust-buster? What does it do? Eliminate the dust molecule, or what?"

"Okay,
you're right," she said, smirking. "I guess it isn't a very exciting
item."

They walked to
an appliance store window. "What do you think about a microwave oven?"
asked NIckie.

"You
don't really heat your food with microwaves, do you?" Max gasped.

"Quit
teasing me," she said.

"I'm not
teasing, we just don't have those where I come from. It's, uh, rural," he
said.

"Must be
REALLY rural," she said, playing along.

She actually
is looking at me when I talk, he thought. Don't lose the momentum. Be witty. Be
charming. Be cool.

"Where
do
you come from, Max?"

"Well…"
What now? Oh, what the heck, she probably won't believe me anyway, he thought. "I
come from another time. In the future," he said.

"Okaaay,"
she laughed. "Somehow I believe that."

"You
really have a nice laugh," he said. Stupid!
he
thought.

"I know
what you're up to, you little dweeb. You're trying to get a raise,"

She has a
nice, teasing lilt to her voice, he thought. "Little dweeb? I'll have you
know I'm due to shoot up to my projected six feet six inches any day now,"
he said.

"Well,
let me know when it happens and I can jump out of the way!" She grinned
and checked her phone. "Do we have time before your spurt for lunch? I'm
starved."

He felt the
top of his head and stretched up to his full height. "I think we're safe
for now. But we'd better make it fast food."

She turned her
hazel eyes full on him. "You're weird, Max."
           
Funny,
when she said it, it actually sounded like a compliment.

They dodged
the traffic and crisscrossed through double-parked trucks to the McDonald's on
the corner. Inside, Max marched toward the order counter and scanned the menu
in vain for the Big Mold.

"I'll
have a Big Max, er, Mac," Nickie said, blushing, to the teenager behind
the counter.

"You want
fries with that?" asked the teen.

"Sure.
And a diet Coke.
And he'll have the same." She smiled
at Max. "Don't look so offended. After all, I'm paying and I don't want to
go over our food allowance.

"Well, at
least let me carry your tray, oh Master," he said.

"Okay,
you carry everything and I'll get us a table." And she turned, leaving him
to balance the full tray plus the load of packages. "Just kidding,"
she said, laughing, and taking the bags of items out of his arms and finding a
table.

"This
place must be new to you," said NIckie playfully. She sat and immediately dug
into her burger. "Seeing as how you live in the future and all."

"Oh, no,
we have one on every outlying planet. Over one hundred gazillion served."

"Uh-huh,
and on Mars they order a big Galactic Burger with cheese, right?

"Nope,
Martians are a vegetarian colony. They order McTofu and seaweed strings,"
said Max, stealing one of her fries.

She slapped
his hand. "So how did you get here? Just come in your little time machine?
Or did you beam yourself here?"

"Nickie,
Nickie, Nickie. What do you think this is,
Star
Trek
?"

"Oh, but
you have
Star Trek
where you come
from?"

"Of
course!
Original and
Next
Generation
and
Deep Space 9
, my
personal favorite.
They got so much right!"

"Uh-huh."

"No,
really! We teach The Original in school.
The
Trouble With Tribbles
is required viewing. I even have it on cerebral chip.
Do you want to hear a short selection?"

"I dunna
have the power," she laughed.

He was reminded
of some other image of a woman laughing.
Some photo or
painting, maybe.
He quickly skimmed his art files but came up with zero.
No, he thought. There really is nothing quite like this girl.

That evening
in the motel room, Max perched on his bed and yelled into the Linker. "Leo,
I'm – hello? Leo? I can't get the connection," said Max to
Bird.
 
"I hate these old
things! They can't connect well through time!" He tossed the flexible tube
down on the bed. "Why won't they just let us use the MindLink?"

"Let's
take a walk," said Bird. "Take your mind right off your troubles. And
we'll work off our dinner."

"Ugh, don't
remind me," said Max. "That's the last time you pick the restaurant,
Bird. No wonder they call them falafels. One bite and you feel awful."

"It's
healthy!" said Bird. "Better than that
meat
and fried food you brought me for lunch."

"Beef!
When was the last time you had a chance to eat beef and fried food? I thought
it'd be a treat for you."

"I never
eat beef. Out of respect for Bluebell. Speaking of her, let's take her out for
a walk!" Bird's hand flew to the holopet coop on his belt.

"Forget
it, Bird! All we need is to get arrested for walking a big, blue holopet
buffalo in Central Park."

"No
problem. I always curb her."

"No way.
We're going to stay in and wait for my call."

"Sure.
Why not? You've been out all day walking with pretty Nickie while old Bird here's
been shut up inside. Do you know what happens to a Native American who's shut
up too much?"

Max grinned
and shook his head.

"We
EXPLODE! No, really! Just spontaneously erupt. Better let me out now and then.
Let me go with Nickie and you watch the office."

"Forget
it!" said Max.

"Oh, that's
how it is, huh? Afraid a tall, dark, good-looking braided guy like me will woo
her away from you, huh?"

"Shut up,
Bird."

"I didn't
know sergeants fell in love! Max's got a girlfriend! Max's got a giiiiiirrrrl
friend!"

"Shut up,
Bird!" Max grabbed his pillow and swung it into the man's chest.

"Ooopphh,"
said Bird, knocked to the bed. "I can't help it! It's my tribal custom to
mock a man! It drives him on to war honors to redeem himself!" Bird jumped
up on the bed, snatched his pillow and smacked it soundly on Max's head. "Don't
worry, Max, I won't tell Nickie you're in loooovve!"

Max retaliated
with a pillow punch across the nose that sent the big man flying.

"Max, are
you there?" a crackled voice rang out in the room.

"It's
Leo!" said Max, grabbing the Link.

Bird sat up
and rubbed his nose with exaggerated dizziness, "Max, are you there?"
he echoed.

"It's
Max, Leo, " he said into the Link. "We've got a bad connection so I'm
going to talk fast. You've got to postpone the Spinelli thing for a while. We
know the victim gets murdered in ten days
,
see
. Then I'll come home."

Leo' voice sizzled,
faded, then rose again. "I'm trying Max, but O'Malley wants to go in
Friday. He thinks Spinelli's getting nervous."

"Talk to
the Chief, Leo. She likes me. She'll help us out."

"I don't
know, Max, I'll try, but don't expect miracles,"

"I have
faith in you, Leo. You can do it. See the Chief, okay?"

"Okay,
Max, I'll-" But his voice faded away with the connection.

Max collapsed
the tube and put it in the nightstand drawer. "O'Malley,
that slime
dribbler. He wants my promotion."

Bird swung his
feet off the bed. "Maybe a game of Coup Sticks would help."

"Sorry,
Bird. I'm not up much on martial arts."

"No, Max.
Coup Sticks is a tribal game. It improves your strategy. Also a boon to the
reflexes."

"Well,
okay. One short game."

"Actually,
one plays the game over a number of days," said Bird. "Kind of like
the old Slasherball World Series."

"So, how
do you play?"

"Well, it's
sort of a sneaking-up-on-someone game. In my tribe, a brave would sneak into
another camp and touch the enemy with his coup stick. Touch him, but not hurt
him. Sort of like: I gotcha!"

"Like
tag?"

"Yeah,
only we hide and try to take the other by surprise. Each touch of the coup
stick is worth one point."
    

"What do
we use for coup sticks?"

"Hmmmm,"
said Bird. He thought for a minute, went into the bathroom and emerged a few
minutes later with two empty toilet paper rolls in his hands. "Taa-daa!"
he said. "Okay, we'll use this one square city block as our territory
tonight.
Ground-floor
only and outside of buildings
only. We leave the building at the same time, but go in opposite directions."

"How will
I know when the game's over?" asked Max.

"It's
over when I score," said Bird.

"Or when
I score," said Max.

"Yes,
well now that you've brought it up, it is customary to speculate on the
outcome…"

"In the
form of a friendly wager, right, Bird? Forget it! No gambling!"

"Gambling?
Did I mention gambling? Wow, you really have a suspicious nature, Max. Makes
for a good cop, but not much for a great friend. Losing will be good for your
character," said Bird.

"Who says
I'm going to lose?"

"One
hundred Regis 3 credits says you will – by fifty points at least!"
said Bird, sprinting for the door.

"Hey!"
said Max, chasing him. As they fought for the knob, Bird's belt coop began to
beep and flash.

"Don't
you dare let her out!" said Max.

"She can
hold the bet!"

"No bets,
I'm warning you, Biiirrird!"