* * *
His eyes opened. Reality invaded his dreamworld of Red Kings, White
Knights and plum cakes. Even after two years Gary still never won,
probably because he refused to play, convinced the computer cheated by
causing the incident. After getting dressed he concluded his current
reality consisted mostly of hunger. So he went to find some food.
The hatch aperture opened with a whoosh then Liz floated into the
hydroponics garden with considerable speed.
"It's here," she said, before catching herself on a nearby cabbage.
"What?" Gary asked.
"The message, the big one. Let's go."
Gary understood and dropped his shears, which incidentally fell to
the ceiling after another whoosh.
Communication with Earth occurred periodically, but at almost a
light-year away news traveled lethargically fast and consequently was
never urgent. If it wasn't for the stream of diversionary
entertainment most of the reports would have gone unnoticed by the
crew, had there been any crew besides Gary and Liz to not do the
noticing. But this was, after all, the first reply since the
separation was reported.
"Sorry you lost the culinary pod," the Earth voice began. "We
figure a spoke cable snapped. There was a manufacturer recall five
years ago, you should have been notified."
"We're thirty years from Earth!" shouted Gary, which went unnoticed
by the voice on the recording.
"The Monterey should continue to Phisa..."
Phisa is the second planet orbiting Nemesis, the dim red dwarf star
shyly orbiting the not so dim and not so dwarfish yellow Sun. It was
a rather unremarkable planet, except for two things: it's weather was
much like Earth's only darker, and it would soon be the second planet
to have permanent human residents. Actually there may be many
remarkable things about Phisa, but being himself an unremarkable
electrician Gary was never informed what those things may be.
Mars, as it turned out, really was home to squat discolored aliens
who didn't appreciate retirement communities or strip malls. So Phisa
was mankind's next vacant doorstep, and it was this mission to light
the way once again for unrestrained human sprawl.
"...so good luck you kids. Try not to trash the place until
meeting the Irondale."
"That's it?" said Gary, who hadn't paid attention during the
instructions in the middle part. Partly because it was boring, but
also because he'd been watching Gilligan's Asteroid on the secondary
channel, which he surprisingly found even less boring. Frustrated
that no solution to his forfeited game was provided, he dislodged the
acousti-muxiplexor.
It would have been fortunate for Gary had Liz heard the crucial
message that he missed, but instead Liz had left to attend to the fire
in the garden, which was also fortunate for Gary. The fire was
ignited by the chance meeting of a pair of shears and a ceiling
fixture, although later Gary tried to blame the computer.
* * *
"Where's my sunglasses?" asked Gary, who was already wearing a
frumpy hat, lots of sunblock, and a gaudy shirt that read PLANET
HOLLYWOOD, EARTH.
"We've just landed on a strange planet and you're going out like
that?" asked Liz.
"Of course not. That's why I'm looking for my glasses Miss Smarty."
Liz scowled at Gary, who blissfully ignored her. This was because
all Gary could see were his glasses on top of his hat in the mirrored
lens of Liz's helmeted space suit. He took them and smiled. Before
leaving he grabbed an umbrella, a box of juice, and his ray gun.
Prepared for egress, they were standing in the airlock as the outer
door opened. At that moment a totally unexpected thing shocked Gary.
It was not that he was no longer breathing, because that often happens
when he held his breath. It was what Gary saw that made him hold
his breath. That something was this, nothing.
"Take those stupid things off," said Liz. "Nemesis is 44 times
dimmer than the Sun. Really."
The next moment another totally unexpected thing happened. Gary
listened to her and removed his glasses. His eyes adjusted to the
dimness.
What they saw is best described by one word, orange. Unless you
were Gary, in which case two words came to mind, orange marmalade.
Other words were also ricocheting inside his skull, like pancake and
ravioli and vegosynthisteak, although those words were inspired by his
empty stomach rather than the empty landscape. The ground was orange
with orange rocks. The sky was orange, full of orange swirly clouds.
Gary stepped forward into this monochromatic world then into what
felt like a refreshing blue puddle, but when he looked down he
discovered instead a squashed box of refreshing juice, presumably
orange. He looked back at Liz standing in her space suit, which was
not orange but some shade of tangerine. She was still as if staring.
Then he saw it, reflected in her mask, written in a strange
unintelligible alien script--DOOWYLLOH TENALP, HTRAE.
Behind the words was an approaching golf cart carrying two men.
"Where've you been?" said one man, spitting crumbs of powdered
donut. "It's mighty hard playing golf in this dark. Did you bring
the lights?"
"Huh?" mumbled Gary.
The now helmetless Liz clarified, "Huh?"
"We've been waiting three months," he said. "They should've told
you how to rebuild your magneto-ion drives to catch up."
Gary was tempted to use his ray gun, but instead he used his blank
stare.
"Say, you play chess?"
x x x
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