Chapter 15

“Remember when you were young? You shone like the sun.
Shine on, you crazy diamond!
Now, there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on, you crazy diamond!
You were caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom,
blown on the steel breeze.
Come on, you target for faraway laughter.
Come on, you stranger, you legend, you martyr,
and shine!”
-Pink Floyd “Shine On You Crazy Diamond (I-V)“

Hey, Susan again. I’m not sure of a lot of things at the moment, but I’m reasonably certain that’s who I am. (And again, I’ll tell you when it’s me.)

My eyes were closed, and through the haze of relaxation, I noticed that I no longer felt Julie’s presence in the bed with me. She’d undressed me for bed, laid down with me, and told me soft, relaxing things, until I couldn’t do anything but feel the relaxation wash over me. (Troy and Julie are so used to this feeling that they’re able to carry on long conversations in trance. I’m not there, yet.) There were other things that she said, too, but I could ignore those. They were for my subconscious mind. And now that I was so deeply relaxed, some friends of mine who came from there were coming to help me answer some questions. I was just waiting for them to show up...

My head. Well, I can ‘t really call it “the final frontier,” can I? I mean, there are certainly other people with heads in the world. I’ve seen them.

Anyway, these are the voyages of the starship Equalsprize. It’s Until-I-Wake-Up mission: To explore my subconscious. To seek out answers lost somewhere amongst all the crap in here. To find out how the fuck I got what, I’m calling for now, some kind of psychic connection with Helen!

I sat in my big, comfortable, swiveling chair, looking at all the buttons and lights and the intercom speaker on the right armrest. More light-up buttons and switches went down the length of the left armrest. I gave a big sigh and couldn’t stop grinning.

“Oh, MYYY!” Said a familiar voice, coming from someone sitting at the Navigator’s position in front of me, wearing a gold shirt and nothing else. “You’re looking quite sharp today, Captain. Shall I ... er ... send a class I probe to the Captain’s quarters?”

“No thanks, Mr. Su ... zy-Ho-Lu,” I told her. Let me just ... be happy for a minute that I’m finally getting a Star Trek one of these, ok? TOS, even! This has got to be Julie’s doing. You are SO going down on her when I wake up!”

I composed myself, still a bit giddy at all of this. I looked around the bridge.

“Ok,” I said. “So, you’re Sulu, and I don’t see a Chekov.” I turned to my left. “And there’s no Uhura, so that makes Sue...”

The turbolift doors opened. Someone else who looked like me was in an outfit with a blue shirt, wearing a pinky ring.

“Dammit, Susan!” Sue barked at me. “I’m a fuckin’ waitress, not a doctor!”

“Ok.” I said, trying to take her seriously, but unable to resist a giggle. “So that means that Suzy-Q is...”

“The only logical choice remaining, Captain.” She said from over my right shoulder. I turned to her. Yep, pointy ears, bowl-cut, everything. It took a moment for me to stop laughing.

“Sorry, ladies. You all look great. Just ... If I’m ever in here for a really long time; like if I’m in a coma or something, promise me we’ll come back to this one!”

“We’ll certainly try, Susan.” Sue replied.

“Before we get started,” Suzy-Q interrupted. “Let’s clear something up here and now. Sue, Suzy-Ho; are either of you spirit guides? Like, do you already know what we’re looking for, but plan to make Susan go through a bunch of shit until she figures it out herself?”

“No.” Sue said, then thought another moment. “Hell, no! I believe I would kick some spirit guide motherfucker’s ass and beat the answer out of them, if anyone here turned out to be one of those.”

“If I say yes,” Suzy-Ho-Lu asked. “Would you use sexual torture to get it out of me?”

“Nope.” I replied. “I’d let Sue take care of the punishment.”

“In that case, no. I am not a spirit guide.”

I turned to Suzy-Q, recalling her conversation with Helen on this subject.

“I didn’t suspect any of you, but thanks for thinking of that.” I settled in my chair. “Well, if I’m Kirk, I suppose it’s up to me to get things started.”

Sue stepped forward.

“Ok, yes. But I’ve got something to say before we get started, too. You need to come out of this eventually, Susan. So, we’ve got to put a limit on the Shatner School of Acting stuff here.”

“My! God! Sue... -Bones!” I replied. “You’re ... absolutely right.” I stood up and looked at her. “Ok, it’s out of my system now. And while we’re getting things out of the way, I’ve always wanted to see this.” I walked over to Spock’s viewer and looked inside. Yep. Vulcan porn, just like I thought. I returned to my chair.

“Ok, Mr. Suzy-Ho-Lu. Sorry, I’m gonna stick to everyone’s usual names. I’m already torn over whether Suzy-Q should be Spocky-Q or Suzyock-Q, and that’s too much to deal with now. Anyway, let’s go visit your home, ladies. Plot a course for my Subconscious.”

“How do I do that, Captain?” Suzy-Ho asked. I had to think for a moment. We needed the answer soon, but yay, Star Trek Fantasy!

“Just hit some buttons that feel Sulu-y to you.” She nodded and started pressing random buttons.

“This better not be like the first movie.” Sue grumbled. “Where we spend forty-seven minutes looking at special-effects before anything happens.”

I heard the music that let me know we were on our way.

Contessa Helena de San Finzione tossed another cigarette out of the Mustang’s passenger-side window after it crossed the intersection of 85th street and Aurora. A few blocks later, the street turned from residential to commercial property, and at the next intersection was the warehouse where they were to meet the Elders’ representative. Beyond it, the street changed from houses and apartments to banks and shops for several miles before becoming a residential street again.

“Slightly more public than I’d expect.” Mander said. “Right on the corner.”

They pulled into the parking lot, Helen casually noting and pointing out the cameras and the men who couldn’t be seen from the street, patrolling the rooftop with AK-47s. Mander doing the same for the ones he spotted.

Helen lit another cigarette and took a long drag.

“Parking lot and street in two directions. Open space; fewer approaches for any Ultimados we might’ve brought along if we hadn’t been told not to.”

“Woulda been nice, though.” Mander replied, turning off the vehicle. After Helena didn’t respond, he asked, “You all right?”

“Sorry, just thinking about how all this began in a warehouse full of Triad goons. It would have, yes. But the Triads are jumpy, and we have to show that we’re no threat. Well, we’re a threat, but not a big one. Not one they have to worry about unless they piss us off, anyway.”

“So, why’m I here, then?”

“We’re not a big threat.” Helen replied, getting out of the car. “We’re also not a stupid one.”

“Least one of us ain’t.” Mander replied, getting out and walking behind her.

Helen approached the side door, dropped her cigarette, and knocked. A Chinese man in a black suit and tie opened the door and looked at them. He nodded and let them in. They walked inside, where three more with assault rifles watched them, fingers resting on trigger-guards. When the man who’d opened the door reached for Helen’s Prada Arcade bag, she pulled it away.

“My big, scary Englishman and I are both carrying pistols.” Helen told the man in Guangzhou Cantonese. “His is holstered, and mine is in my purse. You have AK-47s, unshouldered, which I would appreciate you not pointing at us. If you can’t begrudge us a little paranoia, too, we can turn right around.” She looked him in the eyes. “Because none of you will shoot, and you’ll get to explain to The Elders why I left.”

The men pointed their rifles away from them.

“This way.” The man replied in the same language and dialect, as he led them through pallets of stacked crates and shelves, toward the center of the warehouse. Unlike the last Triad warehouse that Helen had been in, this one was used for moving something other than captive women. Counterfeit electronics, Helen reasoned; from the information she read off the crates they passed.

The small hedge maze of crates led to an open area in the center, containing a folding card table with three chairs around it. The one who’d done the little talking any of them had thus far motioned to a chair. Mander walked forward, looked it over, and held it out for Helena. She took her seat.

“Seems very cordial, Your Countessness.” Mander whispered to her. “If not for the major ‘set-up’ vibe.”

“Not even a pat down for a wire, or insisting on taking our phones.” She whispered back. “See if you’ve got a signal.”

“He doesn’t, Contessa.” Said a now familiar voice from a speaker in the darkness. “You’re right. They’re not worried about recording devices or signals, because I’m taking care of those.”

A Chinese man, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, came out of the darkness from the side and took a seat at the table next to her, regarding Helen with a nod.

“You will pardon me, Contessa.” The man said in perfect West-Coast American English. “My name is Lee.” Helen nodded. If he’d been American, it would have been Smith. “The Elders felt that they should hear both sides of this dispute.”

Mander remained standing behind Helen as another figure entered from the far end of the room-within-the-crates. The man wore a new suit, and what looked like a motorcycle helmet with the visor closed, blacking out the wearer’s head entirely. The figure walked closer and took a seat at the table. It was then that light flickered from the helmet’s visor; light that made Helen think of a screen powering up. The thought was proved correct a moment later when Leonard Whyte, CBE’s face appeared in the visor.

“Nice to see you face-to-face again, Contessa.” He said from speakers on the sides of the helmet. “Well, not really face-to-face, but you understand.”

Helen exploded into hysterical laughter. Whyte’s face on the monitor indicated that he was waiting for her to finish.

“Yes, I do!” Helen got out between gasps for air. “After ... all this shit ... My ‘arch-foe,’ ... my fucking ‘nemesis’ ... in this ‘deadly cat and mouse game’ ... I’ve been playing ... for the last two months ... turns out to be DAFTPUNK???” She wasn’t finished laughing, but still tried to get the rest of her sentence out. “There is ... FAR more truth to that ... than you could possibly know!”

“Oh, it’s a bit Tron, I know. When the people who watched the warehouse video before me didn’t obey your commands as well, I determined that your ... unique talent ... wasn’t something that could be transmitted electronically, the idea just came to me. It also answered that burning question ‘Why doesn’t Contessa Helena de San Finzione just go on TV and conquer the world already?’ So, this little baby blocks off all outside sound and light, depending on built-in cameras and internal speakers, allowing us to speak without worrying about your ability. Provided that it’s me at the table, that is. Knowing me, I might’ve just grabbed a bum off the street and gave him a new suit and a thousand bucks to put on this helmet and sit here for an hour. Maybe he’s watching Spongebob. The thing gets Netflix. He’s not bored in there.”

Helen composed herself and lit a cigarette. The answer that involved Whyte exploiting an innocent was likely the correct one.