Martha

Just over one year later the 3rd of Thraous, 9:00 AM

       Rick was sticky with sweat the mingling of his and Alice’s memories continued to plague his dreams. He slowly pealed the bed covers from himself similar to how one peels back the skin on a Raenanackian banana. That simple act of moving the covers caused his head to pound violently. He couldn’t remember much of anything after supper, which had composed almost exclusively of various alcohols. He slowly rolled to the side of his twin sized bed, which was positioned awkwardly within a queen bed sized indent in the room’s wall. After he finally finished rolling into a sitting position he reached to his nightstand and picked up a metal device. The device had one end that went in the ear then a smooth metal surface that wrapped around to a lens that covered the right eye.

       After slipping the device on Rick heard the familiar high-pitched voice of a woman speaking into his ear, “Hello! And thank you for using The Nexitech Communications and Data Access Device. Have a wonderful day!” he squinted at the light coming from the screen in front of him where there appeared three translucent icons in the shape of doors. The one on the left was labeled Nexitech Data Hub, the one on the right was labeled Contacts and Camera, and the one in the middle that was glowing had the label Nexus Public Data Hub. He tap-tapped the metal part of the device between his ear and eye to make the icons disappear.

       Rick stood slowly, doing his best not to jostle his head. He then grabbed a wrinkled shirt off a chair currently acting as a nightstand, which sported a bright red stain on the elbow. He quickly put himself together as he walked towards the bathroom, buttoning his shirt with one hand, slipping his belt on with another, Rick felt oddly proud of how efficient he was getting. Alice had always fussed about how long he took to get ready, she would always say, “Rick, you are worse than a woman in the morning, I don’t spend as much time fussing with my hair as you do with your beard.” Once in the bathroom Rick grabbed some Mek island rum, which was beside the sink, where it belonged. After a few swigs, which warmed the body while giving a pleasant burning sensation in the throat, he downed a couple painkillers. Almost immediately his headache began to subside.

       Taking a deep breath Rick stroked his goatee that was hanging freely down past his chest. The ends were split, and shaggy, sighing Rick took the scissors and trimmed the end slightly, allowing the hair to fall freely into the sink, he then half-heartedly wiped the hair down the drain though the vast majority stayed in the sink with their brethren. He used to keep the bathroom spotless, always fussing playfully with Alice saying things like, “It looks like a dog has shed in the sink! And you aren’t even the one trimming your hair in the sink, I am! I love you but at least wash your shedding down the drain.” He stared at the loose hair in the sink as he braided his goatee. “Why am I like this?” he whispered.

       Picking up his toothbrush he wetted it and began to brush. Out of the corner of his right eye he could see his police’s standard issue Pelk Model 9 Railgun, or P.M.9R. for short, laying on the floor by his bed. He reached his hand up and sent out what appeared to be a translucent green rope which was affixed to the gun. With a quick tug the gun came flying from where it had been resting and into his hand. He held onto it for a second before slipping it into the holster, attached to the belt.

       Just as Rick was spitting the toothpaste out there came a knock on the door. “Just a moment!” he yelled around the remnants of paste in his mouth before he washed it out. Moving out of the bathroom he yanked his battered and patched brown trench coat off the knob on the wall and pulled it on. Reaching up he patted to make sure his flask was still in the inside pocket. He moved from his bedroom into his living room that he primarily used as an office. There were indents on the floor from where a couch had been, across from the memory of a couch there was a desk piled with paperwork sitting in front of an old leather chair both located in the middle of the room, in front of the desk and chair there was a cracked television currently playing Curse of the Infidels with the right side of the screen just static. To the left of the desk was the worn blue door that led to the hallway of the apartment and on the right, there was a dusty green and gray prayer rug that faced towards the Nexus.

       He sat at his desk and turned on the recording function of his Nexitech device before facing the door. This was it, a proper case not an old lady with a missing cat or a store owner who had had a handful of lighters stolen, this was real. Rick composed himself then yelled “Come in!”

After a heartbeat, enough time for a bead of sweat to form on his temple, a tall, thin, middle-aged woman, walked in. She wore a tightfitting red and black dress with a low neckline and a high dress slit. She held her head high as she spoke. “Detective Rick A. Estle. I am Martha Ethel. We spoke on the phone.”

       Rick stood up and stuck out his hand, which Martha took softly. “Yes, well,” he glanced down at his calendar. “You appear to be right on time.”

       “It sounded as though you were nearly late.”

       “Oh, no, no, I’ve been up for a couple hours.”

       Martha grunted as she eyed Rick up and down, “you come highly recommended.” She sat before Rick could offer a seat so, feeling awkward, he began to pace.

       “What did you tell me of the case on the phone?”

       “Nothing, when I was on the phone with you yesterday evening, I just said that I required your services.” Her brow darkened, “do you not remember?”

       Rick began gesticulating with his arms as he paced, in what he hoped appeared professional looking “Ma’am, with official consultations like this I am required to record our conversation, I am simply trying to ensure everything of importance is recorded.”

       She nodded, seemingly accepting Rick’s explanation. “Any other preliminary questions?”

       “I must quickly circle back to your name, the Governor, he is your brother?”

       “My cousin. Did you do any research?”

       “Oh right, sorry, I just knew you lived on the grounds.”

       “I moved in once my husband died.”

       Rick paused, “I thought for sure he was your brother, do you have a brother?”

       “I have said that he is like a brother to me.”

       “Ah, that may have been what confused me, I’m terribly sorry.”

       “You don’t seem prepared detective.”

       Rick sat and faced Martha “I primarily researched you personally, like I know your husband died- “

       “I mentioned that.”

       “-in a car crash.” Rick finished.

       “Oh, Yes, car crash, Nasty business personal vehicles.” she said shuddering.

       Rick nodded “Martha, tell me, what is the issue you require my services for?”

       “Oh, uh, yes, my son has been missing since around supper time of the day before.”

“Police?”

Martha shook her head. “They have nothing.”

“Well, do you have any idea whether it was kidnapping, or he ran away, perhaps some combo of the two, or none of the above?”

“I can’t imagine how he would have been kidnapped, so I’d assume run away.”

Rick leaned forward. “Any reason he would have done that?”

“He was a curious kid; he may have seen something interesting went to check it out then ended up over his head.”

“Would he regularly do stuff like that?”

“Well one time when he was twelve, he saw something with old Nextian written on it (He was always fascinated by that language) in a pawn shop in a bad part of town. Well, before I knew it, he had slipped away from my watchful eye and nabbed the thing. I didn’t find out till a week later when a very annoyed pawn shop owner showed up with the police. He gave it away more willingly than I thought he would, but that was because his curiosity had been sated, he had worked during all his free time that previous week and translated it.”

       “Wow, so he is pretty smart.”

       “In some ways.”

       “What item was it that was in the pawn shop he had translated?

       “How should I know? The future holds what is important, though my son continually insists on focusing on the past.”

       Rick nodded “Any leads you recommend I check out?”

       “He has a friend at the Tielens Institute, if anyone knows more than I do then it would be Danny Borind.”

       “Ok” Rick nodded. “And your son’s name was?”

       “Mike.”

       “Was there anything else you could tell me?”

       “Not that I know of.”

       Rick leaned back “then we come to payment, fifty G now and fifty once I’m done.”

       Martha leaned forward allowing the low cut to hang open some more. “That’s a lot of money.”

       “One thing I definitely researched was your monetary situation, and I know you could pay double what I am charging and not even notice it missing.”

       Martha sat back up in a huff. “Fine.” She pulled out a metal stick, two prongs on one side and two holes on the other. She put fifty G onto the screen on the top and then plugged it into Ricks stick, instantly transferring the money.

       “I’ll get right on this.” Rick said standing and offering his hand.

       “Thank you” she said as she stood not taking his hand. “Do try to bring him home safe.”

       He nodded. “I will try my utmost.”

“Which I have not been impressed by so far.” She started opening the door before Rick could and disappeared down the hall.

With a sigh Rick turned off the recorder and slumped into his chair. He reached into his coat pocket and took a short swig from his flask. The whiskey had a slight metallic taste caused from staying too long in the flask. He held the flask up, considering it for a couple seconds before taking another swig.