Journey
Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 11
"In our time was the normal second or two turn around." Vee was 'explaining' to Mother, "In Sol time it was 2500 years."
Gary hung his head.
"You have to understand, I don't need a watch and Gary had used his 'Emergency Only' maybe twice and the lesson book WAS a trifle vague ... so the planned 250 years got a little long,"
Vee hesitated overlong and mother made that circular hand motion that tells one to get a move on.
"The place was inhabited."
When mother laughs ... it's a fairly big deal. Surprises become very rare when one is more than one hundred forty thousand plus years old ... been there ... done that ... this was a new development.
When she got herself under control she asked, "Who?"
"Little green men with pointy chins and big eyes," Vee said.
"UFO?"
"Yup. Long fingers ... three of 'em and an opposable thumb. Huge braincase ... except ... they're so little their heads aren't any bigger than mine. Maybe a couple of hundred years farther along the development chain, if you consider how far we've come since 1903." Vee continued, "They were put out that the planet was a construct since it was exactly what they needed as a spy hideout."
"What next?" The chuckle in the question was broad.
"We did that."
"What? Next?"
"Yeah. Shooting war ... April got singed ... just a little. Pissed her off ... we won."
"Won?"
"A couple of planetary monarchies were hissy-fitting over a local planetary democracy ... April kidnapped both rulers ... handed them a Manton's dueling pistol each and said to have at it. Neither wanted to play ... cousins ... so she explained the problem ... they didn't know. Turns out that the manufacturers wanted more profits and spent a third world economy in bribes for the legislatures to declare war ... horrendous losses both sides ... widows and orphans galore ... the monarchs took the CEO's and had them shot ... all the way down to division managers ... anyone who made more than 160 times laborers wages."
"What's a Manton?" mom asked. One would think ... with mom and her collecting ... I mean, she collects yellow rubber ducks, fer god's sake!
Gary explained, "Black powder single shot flintlock hand weapon ... antiques ... very accurate ... exchange of shots to settle honor ... modern medicine to keep the wounded alive ... generally. Dead or survive. Nice and painful ... excellent lesson IF they had fired at each other."
"Who has them?" The curio curiosity bent raises it's head.
"I do. I collect," explained the poor sap.
"Show me, please." The please came with a sorta command and sorta not.
Gary is really INTO guns and the collection ... well ... leaving it home wasn't going to happen ... and April had room ... so.
The ooh's and ahh's! Well ... it didn't take much ... Vee and Gary weren't the only people with timer's disease. A great collection only takes access to the source.
"My god, Gary. These look nearly new," was heard around the Zalewski household often.
Mother, however had no qualms about taking a new ... brand new ... never been fired new ... off the rack at the armory or out of the gunmakers shop. Privately held businesses found sufficient gold laying in the place where the presentation box had been to wonder just who the thief was and would he like a few more.
Armory weapons? They go missing often enough.
Mother and Mr. Zalewski are deep in a discussion about the merits of several of the weapons she has collected ... over night, from several planets and in many centuries, when, Vee is heard huffing and tapping her toe.
"Something, Dear?" asked Gary.
"Planet? Ours dying? Voyage of discovery?" she says sarcastically. "Nothing extremely important."
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