Jak Phoenix

Chapter Twelve - G33

  Jak turned around in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head in some sort of cocky pose to show how at ease he was after the excitement of the battle. “Not bad,” he said.

  “Thanks,” said Cyan.

  “I meant the flying, honey.”

  Aside from swearing under her breath, Cyan didn’t even bother to give Jak a response. She waved her hand as if to brush him away and turned to leave the cockpit.

  In a way, Jak was worried he had finally upset her. It seemed she would normally fight tooth and nail for what she wanted. Either he had really made her mad or she was just too exhausted and dirty to bother arguing. Jak went with the exhausted theory. It was possible, however, that she was just putting on another act to get him frazzled.

  “How long ‘til we reach the G33 moon?” asked Jak.

  “Not long. Couple of hours,” replied Baxter. “And yes, I think you just pissed her off.”

  “I’m sure she knows she helped us out.”

  “Helped? We would be dead right now if it wasn’t for her.”

  “Easy, Bax. You’ve gotta learn how to play these things out.”

  “Or you could just try being normal for once,” said Baxter.

  “Thanks for the advice,” said Jak. He dropped the subject, not wishing to argue with his friend. “Are we within radio range yet?”

  “Yes, actually. Wanna give it a shot?”

  Baxter pressed a few buttons after Jak gave him a nod and held down a button which controlled the outward communications.

  “Come in, Brigatine,” said Baxter, referring to Dodge’s ship by name. “This is Baxter and Jak on the Tempest. Do you read us?”

  They waited for a moment before Baxter repeated the hail. After a minute or so, they accepted that the reply was going to be no more than the noise of static with the occasionally pop.

  “What do you think?” asked Baxter.

  “Well, they could be busy. Or, their communications are down. Or, they could all be dead, you know.”

  “Murdock better hope Dodge is dead. Can you imagine what Dodge will do to him if he gets his hands on him?” asked Baxter. “Man, even I’m scared to see the guy after all this trouble, and I’m one of the guys saving him.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve always been scared of him,” reminded Jak.

  “True,” said Baxter. “Remember that time I dropped his wife’s Gazelion Orb and busted it? He was way too mad.”

  Jak and Baxter shared a good laugh that cooled quickly as they both realized the possibility they may arrive on the scene of their good friend’s murder.

  “Why don’t you go take a rest?” offered Jak.

  Baxter didn’t hesitate in getting up from his chair and slapping Jak on the back in appreciation of the gesture. He left the cockpit toward his quarters, for some well earned rest.

  Jak put his feet up on a harmless part of the console and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms and became lost in the infinite points of star light outside of the cockpit window.

  The series of events which had tossed his life around like a rag doll in the last short while were bewildering when analyzed. How had he gone from not knowing where his next meal was going to come from, to a fight with a dragon, to a showdown with Murdock, to being treated like a king at Rusty’s, to a near death experience in the Zeldok sector? It wasn’t encouraging to think that there was still so much more trouble to be had in their fool’s errand which had now changed from a money-making scheme into a matter of cultural salvation.

  Many of these situations when taken alone were common experiences for Jak and Baxter, who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But, all of these things happening at the same time were starting to make Jak feel at least a little inadequate to deal with them. Save a planet. Save a race. No big deal, right?

  And then there was Cyan. This crazy girl had dropped right in on him, leaving him confused and annoyed most times, while still attracted, physically at least. Not that he would ever dream of touching her. He was aware she would snap his neck like a toothpick. He remembered how he had just upset her after she had saved their lives, whipping through the engine system and fixing something he and Baxter would have toiled with for weeks. It was nagging at his mind.

  What should he do about her? Just forgetting about her, since he really had no attachment to her, would have been the prudent choice, but then Jak was not really all that prudent. He took a look at the readouts and judged their course to be safe and stable, then dragged himself up and out of his chair. It may have ended up a mistake, but he was going to Cyan’s quarters to at least try to offer some sort of apology.

  He walked cautiously down the corridor toward her room, thinking of reasons to turn back, while finding other reasons to move forward. When he neared the door to the lounge she had commandeered from him, he noticed a slice of light coming from the door. The door, it seemed, hadn’t completely slid shut all the way. Common problem on the ship, with these old doors. Sometimes they’d get stuck and you’d have to help them close. It was only open an inch or two so she probably didn’t even realize she’d left it that way.

  Jak approached the door. What was that sound? It sounded like bubbles or something.

  He froze in his tracks as he saw her silky wet leg resting on the edge of the thermal pool. The exposed shining calf was a golden color, carved and strong, yet smooth. Cyan’s body was out of view, submerged in the steaming water of the pool, with her head laid back, face toward the ceiling with her eyes closed. Her wet hair wrapped on to her bare shoulders and the back of the tub, darkened by the wetness to nearly black. Jak kept his distance, barely able to see her through the small opening.

  “Hey, Jak,” said Baxter in a volume far too loud for sneaking. Jak jumped and his head shot over to see Baxter coming down the opposite end of the hall.

  Jak put his finger up to his mouth to try to silence Baxter.

  “What?” he asked aloud again.

  Jak grabbed him, spun him around and put his hand over his mouth to shut him up. He dragged him off to the left of the door in desperate hope that she had not heard them. He was confident that that would be the final straw between him and her. Nevertheless, this was hot stuff. He took his hand off Baxter’s mouth and spun him around.

  “You’ve got to see this,” said Jak quietly, but in a giddy panic.

  “See what?” asked Baxter. Jak tried to push him toward the opening of the door, but he resisted simply due to the natural reluctance one has to be pushed in the direction they didn’t plan to go. Jak pushed him again and he stumbled toward the door, colliding with the steel door panel. It slid aside revealing Baxter to Cyan inside the room.

  Jak slid off to the side a little further and backed up against the wall as far as he could in his attempt to become one with his surroundings and not be seen.

  Baxter froze like an animal caught in unexpected lights, with his eyes wide and his mouth open. Jak winced at the embarrassing sight of his bedazzled expression.

  “Oh ... sorry, Baxter,” said Cyan from inside. “Could you do me a little favour and grab me that towel?”

  What? Jak had figured Baxter was a goner. Instead, he strolled in and the door shut behind him cutting off the inane babble Jak could hear between the two of them.

  Unbelievable. What should he do now? Wait? Leave? Go in? Before he could react, Baxter emerged from the room and the door slid all the way shut. He hurried past Jak, pale-faced and stunned.

  “Hot-tub works,” said Baxter. He moved quickly down the corridor and around a bend, out of Jak’s sight.

  Thanks for the info, thought Jak.