Neptune Road Volume I

  “How many people are aboard?” Sam asks.

  “Oh, a few,” Dr. Mangrove says. “I’ll introduce you around.”

  “Look,” Sam says, “I’m really sorry. About your daughter. I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to…”

  “No worries,” Dr. Mangrove interrupts him. “Really.” He smiles, but his eyes look sad.

  The kettle whistles, and Dr. Mangrove pours hot water into two flowered teacups.

  010 - Onboard the Tumbleweed

  ”Feller? It’s me. Where are you?”

  “On the bridge. Doing some navigating, you know, like I do.. Why?”

  “Dad brought home another stray.”

  “Ah. Who is it this time?”

  “Sam Brubeck.”

  “Brubeck? The one who killed his mother? That guy?”

  “We don’t know if he killed his mother, Feller.”

  “Well, it doesn’t look good. I watch the Earth feeds.”

  “Anyway, he’s here.”

  “You don’t sound happy, Beck. Do you know him?”

  “Yeah… we went to school together.”

  “College buddies, eh?”

  “No, school – grade school. We knew each other when we were little kids.”

  “Well. That’s awkward.”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to talk to him.”

  “You’re gonna have to talk to him. You’re captain of the ship.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “You have to.”

  Rebecca sighs.

  “Fine. I’ll talk to him. Meantime could you dig up what you can? We need to know how airtight the case against him is. I have a feeling we’re going to have company. EarthAdmin is going to want him back. And, this is liable to blow my cover, too.”

  “I can just hear your dad: ‘I found this, Captain, can I keep him?’” Feller says.

  “Shut up, Feller.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re glad you called. Who else can lighten the mood like I can? Nobody. That’s who.”

  “Fine. I’m glad I called.”

  “Feller out. And go talk to him.”

  “Beck out.”

  011 - On the Tumbleweed

  "So... you're here," Rebecca says.

  "Yeah. I am. You're here too," Sam says.

  "Yeah."

  "Hey, how long has it been?" Sam says. "It has to be... remember that time in third grade? When I made you so mad?

  "Yes, I remember that," Rebecca mutters. "I remember you were being rude on your bike."

  "Yeah, and you kicked my wheel as I went by..."

  "And my foot stuck and you dragged me halfway down the block," Rebecca says.

  "Okay it wasn't halfway down the block," Sam says.

  "It felt like it," Rebecca says.

  "So, you wanna kick my ass now to make up for it?" Sam asks.

  "Maybe," Rebecca says. "Why are you on Neptune, Sam? EarthAdmin is looking for you. It's everywhere. Did you think you could just hide out?"

  "That's what you're doing, isn't it?" Sam asks.

  "Yeah, but I'm not accused of murder," Rebecca says.

  "I'm not, either. Nobody has accused me of anything," Sam says.

  "Then why not just talk to them and clear things up?" Rebecca says. "It's obvious you wouldn't kill your own mother. That's crazy."

  Sam says nothing.

  "Sam...?"

  "Yeah, what?"

  "I'm really sorry. About your mom. I know you didn't do it. But you have to help me out, here. This is my ship, and I want to stay here. Just like you. So let's work together, okay?"

  "Okay," Sam says.

  "Or, I will kick your ass," Rebecca says, and smiles.

  "Deal," Sam says, and smiles back.

  012 - Earth

  "What have you got for me?" A voice barks through the static.

  "Not much, yet," David O Millman, Agent, says into the speaker. "I’ve gotten started on a lot of things. But no solid leads."

  "I want you to question Brubeck. There's footage of him leaving the hospital the night Angelica died. Walking fast. He's involved, whatever happened."

  "I know, I saw that in the file. But we don't know for sure why he was there. He visited her every day. Maybe that day was no different."

  "He's involved."

  Millman shifts in his chair and looks out the window. "One thing I’m sure about: Sam Brubeck has left Earth. Took the transport, he was the only one aboard. He could be anywhere on that rock. And they cover for each other. Nobody's going to give him away."

  "Well, that's your problem, isn't it. Go to Neptune, find Brubeck. Bring him back here. That's an order. There's a reason he doesn't want to talk to us. And that's because he knows exactly what went down at that hospital."

  "Fine. Millman out."

  David O Millman, Agent, stares out the window at the skyline. The last thing he wants to do, in the universe, is go to Neptune. And now this stupid case is going to force him to.

  013 - The Bridge of the Tumbleweed

  "Feller, meet Sam," Rebecca says, sliding sideways across the floor and catching herself on a beam in the wall.

  "Hello Sam," Feller says without looking up. Curly hair sprouts in all directions from his head, held down in places by the straps of his thick goggles. "You're pretty famous around here. Or around everywhere. You kill your mom?"

  “Honestly Feller, shut up,” Rebecca says.

  "’Feller’? Is that another fake name like 'Corn Dog'?" Sam asks, grabbing onto the console.

  "No, it's a real name," Feller says, "and this is a real storm. Don’t’ push any buttons while you’re pawing at the equipment."

  Brown dust piles up outside the windows. The Tumbleweed bobs over the top, making unsettling creaking noises.

  "They said SASsy was pretty unstable," Sam says.

  "Who is 'They'?" Feller asks.

  "The atmospheric team on Earth," Sam answers. Something large hits the side of the Tumbleweed, sending it into a spin.

  "Damn! Where was the impact?" Rebecca yells.

  "Can't tell yet," Feller says. "Let me stabilize us first."

  Metal bits fly past the window just as Dr. Mangrove reaches the bridge. "Aw shoot," he says, "I just built that."

  "Well dad, you'll have to build it again," Rebecca says. "We'll salvage some good materials when the weather settles.”

  014 - Somewhere on Neptune, Underground

  May peels open a can of chili and smells it. Still good. She digs in with a bent-up spoon.

  “Well, Dog, I think the storm’s over.”

  A soccer ball-sized mechanical creature on four wheels rolls across the floor and bumps into her sneaker. A red light on the front blinks on and off.

  “Maybe it’s time to build you a voice synthesizer. I wonder if I should make you bark or what.”

  A series of multicolored lights run down the creature’s back.

  The wind overhead rattles the door to May’s underground shelter, and dirt occasionally drops through at the edges and onto the stacks of electronic components that crowd the space. But the storm has mostly passed.

  “Then I’d have someone to talk to. Besides the creepy people at the market, that is.”

  She peers down at a monitor hooked up to a camera outside. She pokes a button and the camera moves upward. A piece of loose scrap metal blows through its field of view.

  “It’s my birthday today, Dog. I’m nine. Play me some music!”

  The mechanical creature rears up on two wheels and scoots across the floor, colliding with a stack of stereo equipment. This sets off a chain reaction whereby a vinyl record descends onto a turntable and the needle lowers until Beatles songs blast out of the speakers at top volume.

  May takes another bite of chili. What she would give for an apple, or a banana. Something recognizable that doesn’t come from a can.

  “We’ll go up and salvage in a little while, eh, Dog?” May yells over the music. “As soon as I’m done eating this glop.”


  The Dog spins around on its wheels, its lights pulsing to the music.

  “Actually it’s not my birthday, I just wanted to say something that was even remotely interesting.”

  015 - Scar City Casino, Neptune

  Two gamblers slouch over a card table.

  “Stupid machine.”

  “Yeah, that’s how they get ya. Program the thing to screw you over.”

  “You know it’s counting the cards. Get ya every time.”

  Philo waits.

  “Do you fold, or would you like a card?” Philo asks.

  “Ahh, gimme a card, ya robot.”

  Philo lays down a card.

  “Dammit! See? Every damn time. Stupid cards. Stupid robot. Tell me you’re not counting cards, robot.”

  “I’m not counting cards,” Philo says.

  “Liar! Can robots lie?”

  “I have no interest in your cards,” Philo says. “I have, however, stored records of the length and severity of the last seventy-two storms on the planet’s surface. Including wind direction and speed and volume of displaced surface dust.”

  “Wow, that’s really interesting. Gimme a card.”

  Philo lays down a card.

  “See? You did it again! I’m going to have you unplugged, you piece of junk.”

  “You might be interested to know that the surface storm patterns have shifted in several significant ways in the last six weeks, indicating possible tampering with the sunlight amplification…”

  “Shut up, robot!”

  “Fine,” Philo says. He picks up the chips in front of him, and dumps them all in front of the two astounded gamblers. “Here.”

  “What? Are you kidding? This is the best day of my life! We’re rich, rich! The gamblers shovel the chips into their pockets. “This is the best dealer on Neptune. Forget what I said about you, robot. Forget it.”

  “I’ve already forgotten you,” Philo says, turning from the table.

  016 - Scar City Casino, Neptune

  Philo takes off his casino-issue vest and deposits it in a trashcan. He detaches two screws at the base of his neck and lifts off his head, placing it under his arm. He walks down the hall toward an unlabeled grey door.

  "Where you going, robot? Get back to your station!" A guard steps forward, blocking Philo's path.

  "I'm leaving," Philo says.

  "What, with no head? I don't think so," the guard says.

  "You are going to help me," Philo says. "I require a vehicle, so I need the schedule of deliveries."

  "Right," the guard says. "Put your head back on and get back to work."

  Philo sets his head down on the ground. He takes the guard by the shirt and throws him down like a rag doll, at the same time removing a device from the guard's shirt pocket.

  "Thank you," Philo says. He pops open a panel on his arm and plugs the device into it. Delivery schedules downloaded. Should be one coming just now. Philo disables the alarm and exits through the door.

  A Vanagon with Scar City Casino logos on its doors pulls up and parks, right on time. Philo opens the back and places his head inside. He closes the door, then presses a button in his palm. His body collapses to the ground in a heap of non-functional metal pieces.

  The van driver looks up from his papers at the sound of the door slamming. "That you, Sal? Got some supplies to unload."

  "Hello," says Philo's head from the back. "We are leaving."

  The engine starts up and the van screeches forward.

  017 - The Surface of Neptune

  The Vanagon zooms across the dirt, leaving the Casino behind at a high rate of speed. Even without his body, Philo can connect to the van's navigation and weapons systems. All Casino vehicles have weapons systems.

  The guy in the driver’s seat is unconscious, or maybe dead. A blow to the back of the head from a ceiling-mounted firearm made sure of that. Philo manipulates the van's extensive equipment from the rear, pointing guns out the windows in case anyone is in pursuit.

  Someone is in pursuit.

  It's a blue car, maybe a Maverick. It pulls even with the Vanagon, but before Philo can engage it, it zooms on by. Where is it going?

  Philo turns the van's cameras toward the front. On the horizon he can see a tiny figure, running.

  The Maverick bears down on the figure. Philo swerves to follow it.

  They draw closer. The runner is a child, can't be more than ten. Skinny legs pumping as hard as they can. The Maverick pulls around in front of her. The child disappears in a cloud of dust.

  Philo pulls the van up and turns on the speaker. "What is your business here?" he says, in his best Casino voice.

  The Maverick’s driver throws the door open and storms out. “You made me lose her!” The woman shouts. “I almost had her! You idiot!”

  Philo points a camera at the hysterical woman and scans for identification. Strange, all he can get from the system is – David O Millman, Agent. That can’t be right.

  018 - Dr. Mangrove's Workshop Aboard the Tumbleweed

  "HelLO, DrAke."

  Doctor Drake Mangrove drops a wrench on his foot.

  "Who is that? Angelica? Where are you?”

  "It'S ME, Drake. DON't loOK for me. YOU won't fiND me."

  "What the hell...?" Doctor Mangrove spins around. His workshop is piled with equipment, speakers, communication devices salvaged and stolen from everywhere.

  The voice is migrating from one speaker to another, changing tone and volume as it goes.

  "DrakE, You've GOT probleMS."

  "Yes, not the least of which is I'm hearing voices, like the voice of someone I know to be dead." Doctor Mangrove puts his hand to his head. "I need coffee. This isn't happening."

  "Well THAT’s a heck OF a greeting, AFter all we'VE been thrOUGh."

  "Angelica, I don't know how you are doing this, or if you are even here, or if I am dreaming. But you are dead, and you need to leave me alone."

  "I WOuld love TO, Drake, but I thouGHT you might LIKe To know – you're GOIng to have VIsitors."

  Doctor Mangrove fishes some incense from a drawer. "I'm doing a cleansing ritual now, Angelica. You are free to go. I liberate you." He lights the incense and waves it around.

  "OH god, Drake, knOCK off the MUMbo jumBo. You alWAYs were a HIPpie freaK with the patCHouli."

  Two figures appear in the doorway, filling it with muscles and dark suits. "Doctor Mangrove, we need you to come with us."

  Agents? On the Tumbleweed? How did they get here?

  "What the..." Doctor Mangrove says. But the suits subdue him and soon he is gone.

  The incense burns out on the workbench.

  019 - The Roof of the Tumbleweed

  Rebecca Mangrove lies on her stomach and peers toward the ground through binoculars. She is watching two men in suits deposit her father in the sidecar of a massive black motorcycle and then climb on.

  A trapdoor on the roof pops open and Sam sticks his head out. "What can you see?" he asks.

  "They're taking Dad. Again."

  "This happens often?" Sam asks, climbing onto the roof next to her. The recent storm is carving up the landscape far out on the horizon.

  "Yeah, from time to time," Rebecca answers. "They always think he knows things. So if something's up, they want to talk to him."

  The motorcycle's engine revs up. A second vehicle appears as a faraway speck, trailed by a cloud of dust. It’s getting closer fast.

  "Any idea of the topic?" Sam asks.

  "No, but they don't usually send two people. They expected him to resist. Even though he's a short, skinny pacifist."

  The motorcycle takes off in a straight line, but soon must swerve to avoid hitting the other vehicle. It's a Vanagon, with Casino logos on the doors.

  "Dang, that stupid van almost took him out!" Sam says.

  "Yeah, whoever that is can't drive," Rebecca says.

  The Vanagon is closer now, and soon Sam and Rebecca can hear shrieking. Rebecca looks at it through the binoculars. There'
s a child at the wheel, can't be more than ten. The van does a few donuts in the dust, then careens away.

  020 - Over the Neptune Airwaves