-SALOON AT THE EDGE OF EVERYWHERE-

Chapter Eight

Ned, Ox and Rufus formed a nucleus in the large crowd of beings jammed into Rufus’s room and the hall beyond.

“We should send out some small groups, like recon units, you know?” Rufus stated flatly.

Ned nodded, and then expanded on the idea. “We need to know what the bastards are doin’. Are they planning to stay, or just grab some loot and take off? Do they have their own ship, and where is it? And you’re right, Rufus, a Reporter would be mighty useful.”

Rufus nodded at the compliment. His hand shot up, one finger raised. He swiftly began to speak. “There would have been one in the lounge for the new cruise ship docking. It is probably still there, or somewhere close by. It couldn’t help but record the action. And if we can make it to the lounge, we should be able to tell if these guys are still holding the ship, even if we can’t find a Reporter.”

By now I am sure that you have surmised that these Reporters of which they speak are not the human ones that may have sprung to mind, though they perform a similar job. No raincoats and rakish hats, no anchor desk and studio for these Reporters. You must at least have seen them in the background of Earth news broadcast coverage, because they go to the same places camera crews go, and for roughly the same reason. To record momentous and newsworthy events. And like Earth news agencies, when there is no momentous event to record, they record the mundane. Filler pieces, I believe you call them. Or fluff, which works just as well. You never know quite what you’ll get. Perhaps the grower of a particularly large pumpkin, or a lady who just gave birth to nine children. Or perhaps the alien equivalent of these everyday happenings.

It is with some reluctance that I tell you that no one, myself included, knows whether the Reporters are a life form, some sort of intelligent beings, or some type of incredible invention, which is to say machines or robots of some sort. I can, however, describe them for you.

They are the size of bowling balls, and are a shiny white, shimmery sort of a color. The color is reminiscent of mother of pearl, only the glossy silvery highlights move and swirl all on their own. They float around, somehow or other, about five feet off the ground. And they pretty much float wherever they please, because no one bothers to stop them. They neither eat nor sleep, as near as I can tell.

Their sole function is recording events, and sharing these recordings with anyone who wishes to see or experience them. Just walk up to one and ask about a place or a person or a circumstance, and the Reporter will project an image and soundtrack in accord with your wishes. Provided it or one of the other Reporters was there to record it, of course. Obviously your odds of seeing anything improve greatly if you wish to view a famous place or person or event. And what one Reporter records, all Reporters everywhere instantly seem to have the recording of as well. I have no idea how this is possible or even why the Reporters behave as they do, but they do.

Rufus frequently went looking for a Reporter to keep up on the news from earth. So far no one had bothered to get live television signals broadcast to the Hubs. The best you can do is having someone send you recordings of the news and your favorite shows. The Reporters never seemed to mind showing off, as long as there was nothing interesting going on for them to record at the time. But who can tell what a Reporter might find interesting. Rufus sometimes wondered if the Reporter was recording him while he watched the projections. He found it amusing to wonder if somewhere a being was watching him as he watched the news from home.

Wait a minute, Rufus realized, maybe that’s not so funny. He had no idea how many Reporters there were on the Hub. They all looked exactly the same.

“Ned,” he broke in to the planning session, “if we can see what they have been up to, they might be able to see us while we do it. There could be a second Reporter, or maybe more that came up on the ship.”

In the end, they decided they had to take the chance. They couldn’t just hide and hope they weren’t found.

Rufus kept expecting Ox to make suggestions during the planning phase of this ‘operation’. As the details were finalized, he turned to the big alien.

“What about it, Ox?” he asked, “You’re the soldier here. You got any bright ideas?”

Ox, who was still swaying gently side to side, looked, well, perhaps thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, “I could go grab one of them and bring it back here. Then I could pull parts off until he tells us what we wish to know.”

Rufus and Ned exchanged glances.

Ox realized that his plan had not impressed the humans.

“A flanking maneuver combined with a rush by our main force,” Ox began.

Ned and Rufus looked around at their main force. Mixed in with a handful of capable looking humans and aliens, the crowd contained terrified tourists, a mix of those who lived and worked in the Hub, and a scattering of ship crew personnel. All these were a mix of humans and nonhumans. There were the aged and overweight of several species. And there were the three Qualm who were quietly wailing to themselves.

It was not an inspiring army.

“Jeez, Ned,” Rufus hissed, “we have to hide them all somewhere. Maybe split them up in smaller groups. We can’t let them get cornered here. They wouldn’t have a chance.”

“Right.” Ned said this as he unconsciously patted the stock of old Betsy, which was in fact not old at all, but a very new and dangerous looking weapon. Ned continued speaking for some time. Rufus broke in with ideas occasionally. Ox continued to sway to and fro. But at last the plan was hatched, as plans will be.

It was decided that they would send out two small groups to reconnoiter, while Ned would stay with the main group to guard them with their only long range weapon. The beings that stayed with Ned would be split up and hidden in rooms nearby.

Now that they had a plan, Ned wasted no time. He turned to Ox and said,” I’m going to put Rufus in charge of the big recon unit.”

Ox didn’t blink, but then again, Ox seldom did.

“I want you to be his second in command,” Ned went on.

Ox still didn’t say a word.

But the three Qualm did. They suddenly rushed up to Rufus. Rufus was proud of the fact that the Qualm had seemed to like him from the first time he had met one, just as he was proud of the fact that dogs and babies liked him. Never trust a man if dogs and babies don’t like him, Rufus was often heard to say.

But now the Qualm were wailing and bobbing with agitation. “Rufus,” they all wailed in unison, “they are very afraid. So very afraid.”

The hairs on Rufus’s neck felt as if they were rising and there was a brief chill there as well.

“The hostages?” he was almost too afraid to ask.

“No, Rufus,” one Qualm said in a voice like a frightened sigh, its spaghetti face seeking out Rufus’s own pale face.

“What? Who?” Rufus didn’t even know what to ask.

“Those that attack us.” There was a brief pause before the Qualm continued. “They scream inside of their minds.”

“What?” Rufus said for a second time.

The Qualm continued in a voice like a cold night wind blowing through a mausoleum. “Some of them are coming closer.”

“Pick your team and move out,” Ned said, slapping Rufus on one shoulder and startling Rufus so badly he jumped. He was to lead the larger of the two recon units. They were supposed to cross over to the other side of Mainstreet and follow the branching, shifting corridor that paralleled Mainstreet on the far side. They would try to make it to the cruise ship lounge and find a Reporter. Failing that, they would try to determine the size and the makeup of the raiding force on their own, and find out what they were up to and where they were right now.

It all seems simple enough in the movies, Rufus reckoned. Penetrate Nazi lines. Take out a blind and deaf guard or two. Maybe break into Gestapo Headquarters, steal the plans, and grab a high-ranking prisoner on the way out. Even the books he had read about real events in combat usually came out well in the end. Of course, he reminded himself, those books are mostly written by the side who won, and always by one of the survivors.

The smaller recon unit of ‘The New Hub Defense Force Volunteer Militia’, as Rufus now thought of their brand-new resistance group, would work its way back down the corridor outside Rufus’s room. They would try to get close to the saloon, which was on this side of Mainstreet, and see if the enemy now occupied it. This group would be led by Mof.

The idea was for everyone to remain unseen while gathering as much information as possible.

Ned must have thought Rufus was stalling. He said quickly, “Okay, you two. Pick your teams. We are out of time. I will lead the rest of these, uh, people farther down this hallway and try to hide ‘em.”

Rufus had already picked his team in his head. He said, “Ox, we decided you are with me, right? Now you, what’s your name?” As he asked this he was pointing at a beefy human who was holding one of his knives in strong and capable looking hands. He looked strong and capable as well, despite being only in his middle 20’s.

“I’m Asa,” replied the stubble-haired youth. He seemed anxious to account for himself. He continued, “I’m the purser off the Disney Star. She’s a brand new liner. First time out.”

His explanation drifted off as Rufus said, “Good enough, Asa.” He wanted to get this over with. He wasn’t sure Ned would go for his next choice.

“I want to take the Professor,” he said with conviction.

Ned looked worried, but did not question him.

“I’m coming with you,” said Candybar. She hefted the big cleaver and dared him to say no with her eyes.

“Fine,” Rufus conceded.

“Now wait a minute,” said Ned.

“I am coming as well,” said the Prince.

“Now wait a minute,” said Rufus. But then Rufus said, “No, wait a minute. You’re small and fast. And the bad guys might not even consider you a threat.”

“Now see here,” sputtered the Prince.

“No, I mean it. I want you to come, your Highness,” Rufus said with a small courtly bow.

The Prince visibly puffed up with self-importance.

“And I am taking one of the Qualm,” Rufus announced, as if he were announcing a full house or a royal flush.