“I hate this job.” Fiction. 1100 words, 6-minute read.
Please enjoy a snippet from the 1st chapter of my recently released 5th, published novel, Smitty’s Guide to Interstellar Bartending.
Smitty is an itinerant bartender. He just wanted to pour drinks and drift from town to town. Being abducted by aliens was not on his agenda. Get your own copy of Smitty’s Guide to Interstellar Bartending, and find out how Smitty winds up running a bar on an alien space station. Available from Misti Media/Nazca Press: http://nazcapress.com/product/smitty/NP/52/
Chapter 1
I Hate This Job
“Oh, crap!”
Somebody was pissed. I could hear it in their voice. I decided to open my eyes and see who it was. When I did, the sight caused me to close them again.
One more attempt didn’t change things. I was looking at an alien. He was your usual spindly little guy, with a big head and black, oval eyes. The skin was gray, not green. He stood there, leaning over me, repeatedly poking a long, thin finger at some sleek control panel.
“Uh, hi,” I said. Probably not the best way to initiate contact with aliens, but it was all I could think of at the moment.
The Martian, if that’s what he was, looked at me. “And, now you’re awake. Well, that’s just perfect!” He spoke at the ceiling of the room, or compartment or wherever we were. “Jezznozz, the wiper’s not working.”
“What?” The ceiling answered back. “It was fine a little while ago.”
“Well, it ain’t fine now. It just keeps giving me an error code.”
“Which code?”
“Uh, two-seven-five-three.”
“Two-seven-five-three, Two-seven-five-three.” Jezznozz muttered back from the ceiling. “Oh, here it is. This says it’s out of a reagent.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t know. You have to look that up down there.”
“Fine, fine.” My Martian went back to poking at his control panel. “Say’s it’s out of… I don’t know what to call it. There’s a stock number.” He read off a long string of numbers.
After a brief pause, Jezznozz said from the ceiling, “It’s the… the juice that erases their memory.”
“I guess that would explain why the subject’s awake now.”
Jezznozz sighed. “You’re kidding me. He’s awake now too?”
“Hi,” I spoke up, figuring I was the subject of conversation and might just as well have a say. “People call me Smitty.”
“Crap!” Jezznozz said. “Well, that’s just perfect.”
“That’s what I said.” My Martian seemed somewhat vindicated.
“Alright, I’m coming down there.” Jezznozz snapped. A soft electronic chirp from the ceiling apparently indicated he’d signed off.
My Martian went back to poking at his control panel. “I hate this job.”
“Like I said, my name’s Smitty. What’s yours?”
The Martian frowned down at me. Then he shook his head. “Might as well talk to you. Can’t do anything until Jezznozz gets down here. I’m Dreynall.”
“Pleased to meet you, Dreynall.”
“At least you’re not screaming. You people are usually screaming and crying the whole time. Gets old, quick.”
“By ‘you people’ I guess you mean us Humans, Earth people.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean. And I am so tired of listening to you Humans scream. So, thanks for not doing that. You’re different. Kind of enjoying the peace and quiet, especially since the wiper’s on the fritz.”
“Well, in my line of work, I deal with a lot of unusual people. Maybe that’s made me unusual too. Although, you’re my first alien.”
“What is it you do? I’ll look for people like you from now on. Less noise.” He grinned.
“I end up doing a little of lots of different things. But I tend bar, when I can. That’s what I’m good at anyway.”
“Tend bar? I don’t know what that means.”
“Really? You speak English well.”
“No, I don’t.” Dreynall shook his head. “It’s another type of reagent we injected you with. He reached over and tapped a spindly finger on my skull. “Goes to your brain and allows you to understand us. Focus on what I’m saying, and you’ll see.”
I did, and realized that he wasn’t speaking English. Somehow my brain was translating his words. Dreynall hadn’t shrugged either. But I knew the gesture he used was the equivalent of shrugging.
“Wow! That’s neat.”
“I’m sure it is, for you.” Dreynall expression was condescending. “It’s so we can understand what you people are saying when we question you, and you can follow directions. Only, it doesn’t usually help much. Screaming and crying, you know?”
A portion of the wall slid aside with a soft sigh. Jezznozz scurried in.
“Took you long enough to get down here.” Dreynall complained.
“I swung by the store room to get more wiper reagent.”
Dreynall looked at his empty hands. “Where is it?”
“That’s just it. There isn’t any. It’s all out. We don’t have any at all.”
“We don’t have any at all?”
“Well, there’s one module, but it’s expired.”
“Plug it in! It’ll probably still work just fine.”
“Probably, but the wiper unit won’t accept the module because it’s past the expiration date.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. It says so, right there in the manual.”
“Crap!” Dreynall snarled.
“I know, right.” Jezznozz agreed.
“Uh, excuse me.” I spoke.
They both looked at me.
“He’s awake,” Jezznozz peered at me.
“I told you he was awake.”
“Yeah, but he’s not screaming and crying. So, it slipped my mind.”
“This one’s different. He tends bar.”
“He does what?”
“I’m a bartender.”
“What’s that?” Jezznozz asked the other Martian.
“I was about to ask when you came in.” Dreynall explained.
“You know, fellas, I’d be happy to tell you all about it. But, do you think you could let me up from here?” I tilted my head to indicate the restraints holding me down on a white table. The whole room was white, sort of curvy at the corners.
“It’s against the rules.” Jezznozz frowned.
“I promise to behave myself.”
“He’s not screaming and crying.” Dreynall observed.
“It’s against the rules.” Jezznozz persisted.
“Like we follow the rules half the time.” Dreynall snorted. “Besides, we can always zap him if he makes trouble.”
“We could always zap him.” Jezznozz admitted.
“It’s break time, and it would be mean to just leave him here, now that he’s awake.” Dreynall argued.
“Is there a break room? I’m parched actually.” I mentioned.
“It’s the stuff we injected you with. Dries you right out.” Dreynall supplied.
Jezznozz leaned over me and poked a spindly finger in my face. “Okay, listen up… What’d you say your name is?”
“Smitty.”
“Listen up, Smitty. We’re going to let you up, because we’re nice guys. But you try any funny business, and we will zap you and zap you good. Then, you will get some extra probing, this time without the happy juice.”
“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds like something I wouldn’t enjoy.”
Dreynall shook his head. “No, you would not.”
END.
The many Dr.s Carmody will return next week. In the mean time grab a copy of Smitty’s Guide to Interstellar Bartending. http://nazcapress.com/product/smitty/NP/52/
More Shameless than Usual Self-Promotion Section:
Check out my published novels at:
nazcapress.com/product/smitty/NP/52/ (Smitty’s Guide to Interstellar Bartending, available now!)
https://histriabooks.com/product-tag/ray-tabler
amazon.com/stores/Ray-Tabler/author/B09H62RZB9
And visit my website https://raytabler.com/ for Science Fiction You Can Enjoy!