Chapter Nine: Bar-Bar Wrenches
For a ROB, searching through the mind of a human who is untrained in the art of memory evasion is like looking for a large book in a small library. Most human memories are not protected by firewalls, secret compartments, or clever diversions. It’s more like the memories are labeled with bright neon titles and shake with anticipation at being read. In other words, they are looking to be found. Even the most embarrassing memories are jumping off the shelf, hoping to get attention and cause shame.
A Byzong rebel, however, who has been trained by The Pocket Watches to disguise their memories, training for moments just such as this, has the ability to direct a ROB to memories of their choosing. This is why, when Dusty and Plod entered the mind of Tarza on orders to find a memory of her discussing the defense plans of Earth, they instead saw Tarza at the age of twenty-three, eight years earlier than the day Jackson met her, talking to freshly built, rudimentary versions of themselves.
Her ears were not fully grown, and barely reached above the top of her head. She wore standard issue workers overalls that were covered in dark grease, which, thanks to the ship’s previous flavorologist, tasted like juniper berries.
“This should fix it,” said Young Tarza to Dusty.
She used a shiny Bar-Bar Wrench to finish screwing the disco ball antenna onto the top of Dusty’s head. She patted him with a smile, probably due to the knowledge that a screw secured with a Bar-Bar Wrench is guaranteed to last at least two eons before needing re-fastened.
“Go ahead. Try it out.”
Plod blinked as she watched Dusty spin around twice with glee.
“Look at that!” Tarza said. “You’ll be turning heads all over the galaxy!”
Dusty let out a delighted beep and wheeled around Plod happily, his ball still spinning.
The scene went white for a moment then melded into a new one.
A slightly older Tarza was working under a large machine, inside the hangar of a Byzong Warship, with Plod and Dusty by her side. Her overalls were even dirtier than before.
“Hand me the musher, please,” she asked Plod.
“We’re almost done here,” she said as Plod dropped it into her hand. “Pretty soon we’ll be back on Earth and you’ll be sipping on oil while we lay on a beach!”
Dusty and Plod began to beep happily, until the loud approaching footsteps of a Byzong Captain and his underlings stopped everyone in the tracks.
“Exquisite mushing,” said the Captain sternly. “Now how much longer until the hydroxy chamber is functioning?”
Tarza dusted off her overalls and stood at attention.
“Impressively intimidating voice,” complimented Tarza. “The chamber will be ready in just two days.”
“Not good enough,” said the Captain.
His underlings looked at each other and nodded in agreement.
“Oh no, not nearly good enough,” said one.
“Tsk, that will not do at all,” said another.
Tarza rubbed her arm shyly.
“Well, I suppose if I work through the night then…”
“See that you do!” said the Captain, stomping away loudly, followed by his less loud underlings.
He paused at the door. “And by the way, we’ll need you to stay on for another three months for maintenance, of course.”
“Oh yes, very necessary,” said an underling.
“At least three months. At least!” said another.
Tarza slumped her shoulders, disheartened.
Dusty wheeled over to her, holding out a dark drink with fog swirling over the top.
She took it and gave a weak but true smile.
“Thank you Dusty. I don’t know what I’d do without you two. I promise, we’ll get to Earth again someday soon.”
She sipped the drink and looked out into the open bay of the hangar, then back at the chamber she was building.
“I just wish they’d tell me what this thing was for…”
The scene turned white again and a new memory formed.
Tarza stood at the foot of the Captain’s desk, his underlings on either side.
“How could you do this? How could we do this??” she said in disbelief.
The Captain went about his work, barely looking up.
“You wanted to be on our most advanced project. This was it,” he replied.
“Very advanced indeed,” said an underling.
“But, I didn’t know it was going to steal their water!” she pleaded.
“If it makes you feel any better, nobody knew. Each part of the Macro-Electro-Bionic-Hydroxy-Gravitational Tube Ray was kept secret from the others.”
“Of course that doesn’t make me feel better! It makes me feel tricked!” she replied.
“Yes, yes, very much tricked,” agreed an underling.
The Captain shot them a glare and they quieted down.
Tarza leaned onto the desk with both hands. “We had no right! No right at all to steal Forgalia’s water!”
The Captan raised an eyebrow.
“Are you suggesting that Byzongs do not deserve to have salt water? You know we need it for—“
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that we shouldn’t go around stealing it,” she stated.
“Well you should have thought of that before you helped us build a Third Generation Macro-Electro-Bionic-Hydroxy-Gravitational Tube Ray,” he replied with a smile.
“Third generation? What happened to the first two?” she asked.
Had the Captain been in a talkative mood, he might have explained to her that the First Generation Macro-Electro-Bionic-Hydroxy-Gravitational Tube Ray was only successful in retrieving the salt from the oceans of a rival planet. While frustrating, this did prove lucrative for the Byzongs when they sold the salt on the Dark Matter Market for a profit, helping to fund the construction of the Second Generation Macro-Electro-Bionic-Hydroxy-Gravitational Tube Ray. However those funds dried up when the previous flavorologist, feeling slighted for not being asked to pick the flavor of the salt, decided to secretly make the remaining ten galactic tons of it the flavor of sea slug slime.
Sales dwindled to almost-but-not-completely zero (the Larslurpians still have an affinity for the taste of sea slug slime flavored salt) and the production of the Second Generation Macro-Electro-Bionic-Hydroxy-Gravitational Tube Ray suffered for it.
On its first and only test, it did not remove the salt water from a planet, but rather changed the molecular structure of all matter on the planet, making it entirely made of water. But that is a story for another time. All you need to know for now is that after the first successful use of the Third Generation Macro-Electro-Bionic-Hydroxy-Gravitational Tube Ray, the Captain of the Byzong warship was in no mood to argue with Tarza.
“You should be thanking me. You will probably get a commendation for your work on it,” he said. “Because of you we will finally be able to go after our larger target. After some more tweaking and tests of course.”
“No!” she shouted.
“No?” he said, genuinely surprised.
“No?” questioned the underlings in unison.
“You‘re stealing planets’ water and I won’t be a part of it anymore,” she said, stomping her foot. The sound resonated throughout the room, but not enough to make the Captain wince.
“Byzong’s need it more. We deserve it more. And to suggest otherwise is the talk of a traitor,” said the Captain cooly. “But if you must leave, so be it.”
Tarza stood back up and adjusted herself.
“However, seeing as how you wish to go, your ROBs will of course have to be decommissioned. Such a shame. You seemed to really have a bond with them,” said the Captain.
“Dusty? Plod? But… what do they have to do with this?” she cried.
“They are privy to sensitive information. And seeing as how you will no longer be a part of our crew, they are not to be trusted. Who knows what kinds of treasonous data they have stored.”
He turned to the underling with the tallest ears. “Go and tell the ship’s smith that we will have some metal for her to melt down.”
“Wait!!” shouted Tarza.
The Captain raised a finger to pause his underling. “Yes?”
“What if… what if I stayed on? Will you spare them if I keep working?” she asked.
The Captain thought for a moment.
“Well… they’ll have to be removed from your care. Seeing as how you’re now on Quadruple Probation for almost abandoning ship. But I supposed if you were to resume your duties, and maintain our ray for us, then we could find another use for them. But one slip up…”
“Understood,” said Tarza, with her head down.
“Good. Now show her out before the rest of my evening is spoiled.
The underling with the tall ears proceeded to escort Tarza out the door of the Captain’s quarters.
She could barely believe what had just happened. She was hurt and confused.
But before the door shut behind her, the underling reached out and placed something into her hand.
“You seem upset Tarza,” she whispered with a confident tone that Tarza had not noticed in her voice before. “Perhaps it’s time for a change.” The underling slipped back into the Captain’s quarters and the door shut behind her.
Tarza opened her hand to find a brass pocket watch.
Suddenly, Tarza was back in the Warship, facing the crazed smile of Inquisitor Slah.
“Well?! What did you find?” she asked the ROBs.