Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1) (16 page)

      Rick remained silent, the bumps in the road causing his head to bang on the roof again.

      Mel shook his head slightly from side to side.  “He, um, sort-of went crazy after our last big tear.  But, to be fair, he wasn’t exactly stable before that.  That’s why he worked for the government.”  He explained.

      “That’s another thing, Mel.  What happened to Rog anyway?  Why is he locked up in the first place?”  Rick asked.

      Mel fidgeted slightly, the kind of fidgeting that indicated he wasn’t sure how to deal with the question.   “A tear in reality, Rick, can be a frightening thing.  It can be real apocalyptic stuff.  Rog didn’t handle it so well.  You see, Roger is the Seer.  He has this ability to see the reality streams, all of them, at the same time.  It’s a lot for a normal person to handle.  This last tear sort of drove him over a cliff.  They had to put him away.   For the last seven years, he’s enjoyed tapioca and heavy medications in an asylum built just for him.  Problem is, no one knows exactly where this asylum is.  The coordinates are top secret even I don’t know.”  Mel confessed.

     “And you want to bust him out?”  Rick sounded unconvinced.

    “Yeah.  Well, technically I want you and Pete to bust him out after Pete figures out where he is.  But, yeah.  Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds.  Once the tear starts things are gonna happen fast.  It won’t be long before we’re in this fast and hard.   Nobody’s going to be thinking about Roger anyway.”  Mel explained further.

     “How will they forget?  If it’s as bad as Pete said, someone is going to notice.  Some people have a tendency to remember you broke the law, like lawyers and judges.”  Rick said sarcastically.

    “That’s not how it works, Rick.  People outside of the Prime Sphere won’t remember.  It’ll all just gets folded back into the flow of the reality string.   We’ll remember, but they won’t.  Real convenient when you’re committing felonies, trust me.”  Mel chuckled.

      Rick was silent for a while as the little car that could made its way back up Marine Corps Boulevard like a little wind-up toy.  Finally, he spoke again.  “Is there any place to gamble here?  A casino?”  He asked.

     Mel acted surprised.  “Gamble?  What in the world do you want to gamble for?”

    “Mel, my life is usually pretty simple.  When things get heavy, I’ve learned to whittle it down to two pleasures.  One is cooking, the other is gambling.  And since you wouldn’t let me finish my chicken, I figured I’d try the other.”  Rick huffed at him.

    “Well, sorry dude.  Gambling’s illegal here on the island.”  Mel looked at him concerned.

    “What is this, the dark ages or something?”  Rick complained.

     Mel laughed.  “No, just an island full of Catholics.  Besides, you don’t need that crap anyway.  Gambling’s no good, just like drinking.”  Mel made his views clear from his tone of disgust.

   “Whatever.  I don’t drink.”  Rick told him, and silence fell once again between them.  After a few moments of this, he decided to ask one last question, tepidly letting it come out.  “What about you Mel?”

     Mel looked at him confused.  “What about me?”

     “Did you…you know.  Did you ever have to eliminate someone?”  He asked, knowing he might not want to hear the answer.

      Mel looked at him with a deep contemplative look on his face.  He didn’t answer the question.

    There was only one other car in the parking lot when Pete pulled in, leading Mel closely behind.   It was a black BMW decked out with all the pretty shiny things like chrome rims and dark tinted windows.  The vanity tag on the back read REAL1.  Rick looked at it longingly, wondering why they couldn’t have rented something like that.  It would have been so much more comfortable and so much easier on his testicles.

     Pete pulled his truck in right beside the nice new BMW. He didn’t realize, after stepping out, that he was going to have to wait for the keystone cops to extricate themselves from the tiny Japanese car.  It was one of those moments he wished he had a camera for.  Then he remembered he had dozens of cameras on the Honey Pot watching in all directions.  He would have to remember to make a copy and send to Mel.   He waited patiently for both Mel and Rick were able to stand again and follow him to the front door.

       Rick noticed immediately that the nice plain glass door had no handle.  There was no lock for a key either and the tint on the windows was so dark it was impossible to see inside.  Pete pushed his old Ray Bans up on his hair and leaned down to look closer at the door.   An invisible keypad suddenly appeared out of thin air on the white wall just next to the door. He punched a few numbers on the keypad and then leaned further to look directly into the scanner.  After a complete scan of his right retina, the door buzzed and then clicked open.  No one was on the other side.  Pete turned to look at Mel. “I hate dat ting.  Dennis, he told me we needed it.  I know it gonna fry my eyeball someday.”  He said sternly.

     Pete stepped quickly inside followed by Mel and Rick.  The door closed and sealed on its own.  Pete watched it with an absent contemplation.  “De glass is three inches thick, bullet proof, missile proof, and just about anyting proof.   Cost a lot of money.”  Pete smiled again

       Rick was quickly struck by how unimpressive the inside of the Honey Pot was.  With the tight security and the urban camouflage, he was expecting something quite spectacular inside, something akin to NASA ground control or the computers down in the basements of CIA headquarters where they listened to everyone’s cell phones.  But there was none of that.  There were no computers, no sophisticated high-tech mind- numbing machines that could count the hairs on your head in a microsecond.   Just a plain wood paneled wall about twelve feet inside the doorway with two really large fake palm trees set about four feet apart.  Halfway up the wall was a wood carving of the island in relief and a huge faceless metal clock above that which looked like it fell out of a time warp from the 1950s.  The floor was nicely polished marble, and it went off in two directions, left and right.  Besides that, nothing else populated the famous Honey Pot. At least, nothing that could be seen.

      “Really?  Is this it?”  Rick said out loud.  His voice echoed off the tall windows that made up the front of the building.  The ceiling above them was probably twenty to thirty feet up.

     Pete was unmoved by the sarcasm.  “I been meanin’ to get some more potted plants.  Just don’t have da time.”  He said with a chuckle.  Then he started down the hallway toward the right.  It was only a few steps before they came to that corner of the building, which was also framed in huge glass windows. But, the hallway kept going as it veered to the left and went back into the building’s interior, the side wall of the building making up its right side.   All along the interior wall was one door after another.  All of them were plain, with no handles, keyless and unmarked.    There must have been a dozen or so of them as the hallway proceeded back to the very back of the building. 

      Rick followed dutifully behind Mel, who seemed to know his way around by comfortably following Pete.  Pete stopped halfway down the long hallway and stood waiting silently, watching the far end expectantly. Suddenly, from a doorway at the very end of the hallway, a man dressed in an extraordinarily well-tailored grey suit appeared.  He was tall, lean, and accustomed to working in $7000.00 suits with fine Italian leather shoes and a bright $240,000 Audemars Piquet watch on his wrist.  Rick noticed that he looked oriental, but his features were generic enough to keep his ethnicity vague.  He had well-groomed dark hair, no mustache or beard and no glasses.  He was, in fact, Filipino but many incorrectly thought he was Japanese.  He came quickly out of the doorway and approached Pete. 

      Pete turned to Rick.  “Dis is my manager, Dennis Hernandez.  He da one who tinks we need to fry our eyeballs.” 

     Dennis approached slowly, with a walk of firm determination and authority.  “I didn’t know you were on your way today, Pete.  We didn’t have any ports scheduled for today.”  He said.  His voice was clear and distinct with no hint of an accent.

      “Well, dat was before I got some visitors,”  Pete said, looking at Mel and Rick.

      “Mel!”  Dennis reached out his hand to shake. “We weren’t expecting you back so soon…after the last time.” 

       “Well, you know me, Dennis, bad penny and all.” Mel shook his hand vigorously.  “This is Rick, my best friend from childhood before I was declared dead.”  He pointed over to Rick.

       “I hope Mel hasn’t pulled you into another one of his missions.”  Dennis extended his hand for Rick to shake.

       “Well, Dennis, I don’t know what Mel has pulled me into yet.”  Rick replied.

       Dennis laughed a slight, polite kind of laugh before turning again to Pete.  “So what’s going on Pete?”

       “I think we gonna need one of de rooms, Dennis.  Anyting up and runnin’ today?”  Pete asked.

      “I was running some diagnostics on 168.  You could use that.  Should I even ask why?”  Dennis tried to smile.

      Mel quickly interjected, putting his hand out toward Pete, a confused look on his face.  “Whoa there, Tex. We need to get some coordinates first.  We don’t know where we’re porting.”

     Pete nearly laughed but stopped himself.  “You tink I got to find where Roger is?  You don’t tink I know dese tings already?  Son, I’m not done trainin’ you yet am I?”

     Mel looked at him stunned.  “You mean you already knew where he was?  All this time you already knew?”

    “’Course I knew.  What kind a fixer would I be if I didn’t already know such tings.”  Pete smiled.  He turned to Dennis again.  “Set us up on the coordinates that I told you about, da ones I keep secret.”

     Dennis laughed and nodded than he turned to go back to the room he just came out of.  “I’ll get the reactor online.”  He said as he disappeared into the room.

     Mel had another go.  “Why didn’t you just tell me back at the diner?”  He said, disgusted.

  “Cause it not nearly as funny as now.”  Pete beamed.  “How come you got all dis plan going and you ain’t found him too?”

   Rick leaned over to whisper in Mel’s ear.  “Did he just say reactor?”

     Once again Mel ignored him.  “I told you those coordinates were top secret.  Not even Nell could get a hold of them for me.  How did you get them?”

               Pete shrugged.  “’Cept I already been dere.   

            Remember?  I had to use Company ports, but I did   

            some tracking of my own, see?”

    Mel’s face suddenly brightened as he understood what his old mentor was saying.  “You ran a parallel signal didn’t you?  To catch the destination?  And you didn’t tell me.   See, this is why we have trust issues.”

     Pete smiled broadly as he so frequently did.  His smile confirmed Mel’s suspicions. “I don’t tell you everting boy,” He said.

    “Did that mean nuclear reactor?”  Rick was visibly concerned.

    Mel looked at him sharply.  “Yes, Rick.  What other type of reactors do you know?”  He said frustrated.  “Don’t worry so much.  It’s under control.  The reactor is downstairs.”

      Rick looked at him menacingly.  “Is there anything else you might want to mention?  I mean do I need a radiation suit or something?”  Rick asked harshly.

    “No, not really.”  Mel looked at him firmly.  “Prime Sphere, remember?  You’re protected.”

      Rick glared back at him not sure if he wanted to know any other details.  “And Pete here?”

      Mel shrugged his shoulders.  “He’s got his own Prime Sphere.  Don’t worry about Pete.”  They all three stood together in silence.  Rick felt like he needed something to drink, like a good stiff, cold grape soda when he heard Dennis’s voice boom suddenly over the speaker in the drop ceiling overhead. “Ok, Pete all ready.”  The voice echoed down the tight hallway.

      The old man walked toward the first door on the left.  There was another buzz and click as the door popped open just slightly on its own accord like the front door had.  A bright light was coming from within.  He stepped back, allowing the bright light to flood the hallway around them but he quickly put his hand up on Rick’s arm and stopped him as he was about to enter.  “Bra, I got to tell you someting ‘fore you go in dere.”  Mel ignored them, slipped past and walked uncaring into the open doorway.

     Rick was suddenly alarmed by Pete’s tone and he didn’t dare budge another inch.  “What?”  Rick said as his eyes enlarged.

     “Mel here, he not tell you how dis gonna be, what it’s like and all.  For me an’ him, dis ain’t nutin’.  We been doin’ dis a long time.  But, you ain’t never been exposed to it.  Traveling de streams can be scary, even cause you to be sick.   You got to prepare for it.”  He said strong and directly.

      Rick realized he had no way of knowing how to do what Pete was telling him.  “How am I supposed to do that, Pete?  Tell me how?”

     “You just stay near me an’ Mel.  Don’t let your eyes fool you.  Don’t take nutin’ serious you see, ‘cause it gonna be some bafflin’ crap at first.  It’ll get better soon, tho.”  Pete tried to reassure him.

       Rick was really worried now.  “How bad is this going to be, Pete?”

        Pete couldn’t smile, but he grimaced slightly.  “For de first time, tink like sea sick…but a thousand times worse and all in you brain.  Try to tink happy thoughts?  Dis you first ride.  Just relax and try to enjoy it.”