One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy (41 page)

Then Reno returned and sat down next to him. In one hand was a plastic cup filled with ice cubes and amber-colored whiskey. In his other hand was a blue velvet pouch with an object inside. He handed it to Hieronymus. He took a long drink, the ice cubes making a crackly racket.

“Thank you, Uncle Reno,” he said hesitantly, but his uncle stared ahead and only half smiled in a very sad sort of way.

Hieronymus reached into the bag and took it out. It was a book. A real book. Made from paper. It had a cover made of leather. He flipped through it without reading. Real ink on real pages. The feel of it was exquisite.

“This is a real book!”

“Well, we are in a place where we are surrounded by real books…”

“Did you steal it? Is this legal?”

“Totally legal. If we discover that there is more than three of the same edition, if it has no historical value, we’re supposed to throw them out. Or we can keep them. I took this one because I think you should have it.”

“It must be hundreds of years old.” Hieronymus remarked. "But it looks new…”

Then he opened it up, expecting to see an ancient language. But on the first page he understood every word. It was the title. And the author.

Hieronymus looked at his uncle.

“This is my mother’s book. Where did you get this?”

“I told you. I found it. Completely by accident. I was looking for something else entirely. I came upon a container with four of them.”

“I thought her book was completely lost. I also thought that nobody published paper books anymore.”

“Indeed, we all thought that. But a while back, on Earth, a few publishers tried to make books the old-fashioned way again. We have so few things we can grasp in our hands these days. Everything floats and then is gone. Your mother’s novel was chosen by a publisher of paper books. But she’s a little stubborn, your mother—she refused any other format except paper once it was made. Anyway, it fopped commercially. But critically, it received enough notice that with a bit of effort, she could have carried on. But she started to slip into the woman she is today. She didn’t want to even look at her books, and she destroyed all the copies she had.”

“Take this back. I don’t want it.”

“Oh, you want it, One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy! You know exactly why you want to read it, too. Open it. She wrote it years before you were born. There she is. Barbie O’Fallihorn, and she…is going to… speak…to you now.”

“I don’t have to take this from you, Reno. You are as boring as my father.”

“It must have been a terrible thing to grow up with your mother right there in the apartment, lying in bed in a plastic raincoat, crying, sleeping, crying, never even speaking to you, and your father pretending that she was completely normal.”

“Yeah, well, what’s it to you?”

“Oh, it’s everything to me. How is this for irony? I miss your mother more than you do. I used to know her. She was like an older sister to me. I miss her because I know some things about her life that your father has never told you. For example, have you ever wondered why she wears a raincoat to bed? A raincoat? It never rains on the Moon.”

“I am going to leave.”

“You are not going anywhere. Your blue-haired girlfriend has not returned from the law library yet. You have no choice but to listen to your uncle.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Do you know what country on Earth your mother is from?”

“No.”

“How can you not know something like that? Your mother is from a country that does not exist any more. It was a country where all it did was rain. Everyone wore raincoats. But, one day, it literally did not stop raining. Puddles turned into lakes, and creeks turned into rivers and the water got higher, and soon the ocean joined in and suddenly there was nowhere to go but to a watery grave. Out of a huge family of seven brothers, only your mother escaped—with her grandmother.”

“Stop. Please don’t continue…”

“You knew this already, Hieronymus. You knew that there was a tragedy to your mother that was deeper than your own dark shadow, and it follows you everywhere. It has literally cut you in half. One part of you is a conformist just like your father, and the other part of you is still in exile, just like your mother. Oh, you might have this whole business with the lunarcroptic ocular whatever-the-hell-they-call-it, but that is not really your problem. Your biggest problem is you have never spoken a single word to your mother, and you know that there is nothing you want more.”

“I think you’ve said enough for tonight, Reno.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. You’ve spoken much too much tonight…”

“How sad that you can say that to your uncle, but not to your own mother…”

“My mother is mad. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“A pity your father never took care of her, then.”

“Maybe there was nothing he could have done about it.”

“Ah, the passive approach. You look so much like your da when you

speak like that. Whatever happens, happens. Going with the flow. Poor Barbie. I always thought she was way too good for my idiotic, passive brother. Loser brother. And you know he’s a loser. You know it.”

“Yeah, well, my loser father is in jail right now. He was covering for me.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re not fazed in any way that your brother is in jail at this moment?”

“No more than you, boy-o. You hate his guts more than I do. If you were concerned about your da, you would have told me a long time ago. Instead, you went dancing with that wacky girl over there.”

Reno pointed out Clellen.

“She really is something, that one. I’ll bet she has her own outstanding tragedies. Just like that guy she’s dancing with, but he doesn’t know it yet. Or your other friend over there who looks like he’s going to have to decide which one of those women he’s going to end up with tonight. He has tragedy written all over him. I have my own tragedy which is a mother lode all by itself. So does your father. My friend Matilda. Everyone in this room. This whole round rock is a tragic place. But you. You’ve got the Magic Mountain of tragedy and you have to figure out what the Hell you’re going to do about it before it turns into a volcano and takes your head right of.”

Hieronymus walked away from his uncle. He navigated through the couples on the dance floor. He walked right past Clellen and Pete. Clellen’s eyes followed him, as did Pete’s chin. They watched the solitary, shadow-like boy.

He found another couch. He sat down on it.

He opened up his mother’s novel. He read the first two pages. Then he closed it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

He leaned forward. He buried his face in his hands.

His slid his fingers under the goggles to rub his sad, watery eyes.

Then it happened very quickly. Slue finally returned, followed by Matilda, who went to the couch where the nearly-passed-out Uncle Reno lay sprawled, his eyes half closed. Slue went right up to Hieronymus, and she was smiling.

She sat right next to him and she kissed him on the mouth.

At that moment, the lights went on. Extremely bright lights.

Their lips parted, and entering the room, much to the chagrin of every person there, was Lieutenant Dogumanhed Schmet. Hieronymus immediately recognized him from the incident in the classroom two years earlier.
Oh, man, not this guy again. What happened, did someone complain about the noise?
Then he realized that this was the same officer who called his father, a real LOS-hater and certainly not the kind of police officer who simply went around breaking up parties.

He had ten other officers with him, maybe more, and they circled the crowd on the dance floor. The policemen all wore the characteristic top hats and capes, and they did not appear to carry any weapons. They all appeared to be a bit bored and tired, unlike Lieutenant Schmet, whose waxen, sweaty face was ecstatic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please do not be alarmed. My name is Lieutenant Dogumanhed Schmet of the Sea of Tranquility Police Department, Ocular Investigative Division. We do not mean to interrupt your wonderful party—you can return to your utterly wasteful distractions and pathetic little debaucheries as soon as I have apprehended the highly dangerous fugitive who is in your midst, hiding out among you now.”

Slue got up and walked directly to Clellen. She put her arm around her and whispered very intently. Clellen returned a rather confused and frightened expression. Slue took a tiny object out of her pocket—a gray, finger-sized rectangular thing with a flashing red light on it—and passed it to the perplexed girl, who nodded with a sincerity seen only on young children who have been given an important assignment they must not fail.

“…the fugitive I am seeking,” the detective continued, "wears those goggles that are common to a certain group of incompatible lunar citizens. This one has with him several accomplices, one of whom is a female goggle-wearer with blue hair, and a boy who drives a Prokong-90.”

Listen, Clellen, I have something that I have to give to you right now. These men are here to arrest Hieronymus, and I am pretty sure they are going to arrest me, too. If that happens, you have to take this media transference chip directly to the Lunar Federal Court in the District of Copernicus. It’s really important. It is the big white building that is shaped like a snail’s shell. You know it? Its one of the most famous buildings on the Moon. You have to find someone there named Raskar Memling. He’s my older brother. He works there, and you have to find him and give this to him. It has to be done in person. When I disappear, everyone will be worried about what happened. You must tell my brother everything. He has a friend who is a constitutional judge. This data cube I am giving you has all the proof we need that people like me and Hieronymous are being tossed into jail without trial, and it’s being done illegally. There is a secret illegal arrangement between some people in the government and transportation corporations. I can’t go into it right now, but when it breaks, it’s going to be huge. Just take this, and give it to my brother. It’s up to you, Clellen. They’re going to arrest me, and probably question anyone I spoke to. But they won’t take you. All you did was dance. And because of that, you’re safe. You get the last word. Just remember what I told you. My brother. Tell him everything. Concentrate. This might be the most important thing you ever do, Clellen. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but it has been wonderful to have you as a friend. And I know that I can depend on you.

Lieutenant Schmet continued with the unpleasant address to the crowd.

“So as soon as we have the following in custody, the rest of you can continue with your foolish party. When I call your name, please step forward. Hieronymus Rexaphin. Slue Memling. Peter Cranach. Reno Rexaphin. Matilda Weyden…”

Hieronymus and Slue walked up to Detective Schmet.

Hieronymus spoke directly to the officer. ”Look. You got me. Here I am. Just take me. Why are you arresting the others?”

But instead of answering, he just bellowed out the charges as if they were in a courtroom and he was already the judge, jury, and executioner.

“Hieronymus Rexaphin, you are being arrested and charged with the crime of Ocular Assault, by showing your uncovered eyes to an unsuspecting tourist from Earth. Slue Memling, you are being arrested and charged with possession of a stolen police Omni-Tracker and then subsequently and maliciously placing said Omni-Tracker into a highly dangerous environment, where no less than eight officers were severely injured while trying to retrieve it. Peter Cranach, you are being arrested and charged with the crime of transporting known criminals into forbidden areas of the Lunar Far Side, in particular, Joytown 8, a known magnet for gangs and drug smuggling operations.”

Pete was beside himself with disbelief. He shouted at the lieutenant.

“What are you, crazy? We’ve done nothing wrong!!”

“Insulting a police officer can be interpreted as assault, depending on the discretion of the officer. You have just insulted me. You have hurt my feelings. I charge you with assault, young man.”

Pete rushed at him in a tantrum of fury, but Schmet was fast, and with a tiny flick of his own wrist, the big tellball player was on the floor, writhing in agony with a broken arm. ”Your loyalty to your friends is admirable, but your stupidity is not,” the detective said before continuing on with his announcement.

“Reno Rexaphin, you are being arrested and charged with the crime of aiding and abetting these known criminals. Matilda Weyden, while you are not technically under arrest, you are hereby required to come with us for questioning.”

Then the detective began pointing out several random people in the crowd.

“You. You. And you. We are taking you in for questioning. Anyone who by any chance allowed these terrorists to have access to this library’s research terminals must come with us.”

There was a great murmur in the crowd, as most of the people thought the demands of this lieutenant were a bit outlandish. Then one officer brought forward Clellen and Bruegel.