Duval Dirtbag
Murder on the Base
Ch 33 - Back to the Office (Inside Baseball)
As hard as he’d tried to rally the Pack, Michael couldn’t help but have his doubts. I can’t believe I can’t trust Bill, Michael thought to himself before he got himself out of bed.
Can I? Here’s the thing, I had only known Bill for about three months before I asked if he wanted a roommate. I knew that living with Jessica was becoming untenable. I’d have to find something new to do. It was foolhardy to jump into living with someone, but I was so ready to get out. There wasn’t another woman for me to shack up with; there wasn’t another close friend who I wanted to move in with either. For the better part of the last decade, Jessica had been my friend. My best friend. My only friend. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were friends back home and friends online. None of whom were anywhere near Jacksonville.
Bill was a cool dude, that’s for sure. He didn’t fall into the usual pitfalls that he’d usually run into with people. It seems gauche to call myself an empath, but I read people pretty well. Sometimes too well. There were times when my experience with people was further honed by predictive skills practiced in interpreting when I know what people will say. I couldn’t do that with Bill. He had enough life and different experience from me that I couldn’t tell what he would say or do next and it was always amusing or lighthearted or worthwhile enough that it kept me interested.
Our first year in an apartment was the best thing I could have done. There was one particularly bad drop off with Jessica where she tore me apart. I’d tried to keep it together when I got in, but Bill could see it all over me. He’d said something to me and I’d clearly not responded in the right way so he said…
“Nope,” Bill’d said, “Go change clothes.”
“What?” I’d asked, dumbfounded.
“We’re going out.” Bill’d commanded as he stood up and put his Playstation controller down.
“Aww dude, I don’t think I’m in the right place to go out.”
He practically ran up to me, “Oh no, you’re in the exact right place to go out right now. Go change clothes.”
I couldn’t say no. Being charged by a squat veteran is enough to change anyone’s mind. I was filled with a new energy, well, more like I was swept up by this new “going out” energy, as opposed to my previous “fuck this, fuck you, fuck living” energy I’d had.
When we got there, Bill was all ears. “What happened, man?”
I told my story. It was punctuated by drinks. My sadness eventually drowned out. I started hearing things. There was a Shil’vati presence, but it was still tentative. Jacksonville was a Red Zone at the time, so everyone kept to themselves. However, there was a small contingent of Shil’s trying to order drinks. My sorrow was being overtaken by curiosity. What were they ordering? Their body language was cautious but interested; they’d been watching the Humans drink and were wondering if they were willing to try. It was less that I knew the words, but I knew what they were saying. The words came later.
But approaching Shil’vati was too big a step at that time. Baby steps. Bill had scoped out a table of Human women about my age who seemed to be having the same evening we were having. I had no clue. Bill gave me another couple of drinks before talking me into it. Then he lined my body up in their direction and sent me on my way like a toy boat, shoved out to water, bobbing along without any way of stopping itself.
I asked if I could join them. They must’ve allowed it because the next thing I knew, I was having a conversation with women at a bar! This was my first. I met Jessica the first day of college. I’d just made my bed when Jessica and two of her friends showed up at the door of my dorm room. They’d met my roommate during orientation and went looking him up. Over a short period of time and an unexpected pregnancy later, Jessica and I were together before I was even old enough to drink. Now here I was drunk, talking to women at a bar, after I’d been crushed by my first love that same afternoon.
And they were entirely willing to talk and share! It was fascinating to my drunk mind. Things seemed to go great until a broad gesture on my part knocked a flight of beers over on the ladies.
It didn’t matter. My confidence was restored. Well, my lack of confidence was replaced by a modicum of confidence that I wasn’t trapped in my relationship with Jessica; there was hope for me. I could find happiness, a partner, someone who was interested in me beyond the young love I’d experienced so far.
Michael sat up in bed. His memories and the confidence they gave him were enough to stir him. Bill was already up. He could hear some flavor of Final Fantasy playing in the common room. But can I trust Bill? Michael continued pondering.
He did have dreams about me dying. He was surprised in the one dream not by how hard he was stabbing me, but by how many times he stabbed me in his dream.
He does seem to enjoy my suffering. I’d thought that that was some kind of dude culture that I hadn’t really experienced. I just get along with women better than I do with men. I’ve always had friends who are girls. Not girlfriends, mind you, but girls had always been easy to talk to; which was likely because they’d never seen me as a partner. Much after the fact, someone had come up with the term “friendzoned”. I didn’t feel friendzoned by the women at the bar; so why was that a term I identified with? Something to ponder some other time.
Michael looked around the room that he and Bill shared. Bill had pictures and banners and sports memorabilia decorating his side. Michael had very little. A few pictures of his kids, pictures of former coworkers, but nothing else that could be described as decorations.
Michael observed though, that the floor was littered with trash. He’d left his own fair share of cups, cans and chip bags but Bill’s side was a bell curve of bottles and cans. Bill’s drinking was how he was coping with the Damoclean sword, or rather, customized KBAR that seemed to be threatening him.
Gathering his trash, Michael managed to keep Bill's debris in his arms. He pulled up the back of his shorts before emerging from their room out to the common room. He padded his bare feet from his room toward the bathroom and a chute to dispose of his trash. On his way, he saw Bill on the couch, playing the newest iteration of Final Fantasy. His hair was a mess. His stubble was beyond his usual attempts at facial hair, though it grew in uneven patches. Michael saw the bottles on the coffee table and at least one on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.
Michael dumped his trash, trying to close the door to the chute audibly enough to be heard so that it didn’t seem like he was sneaking around but not so loud that it might disturb anyone else who might still be sleeping in their rooms. He cleared his throat and addressed Bill, “Hey dude, what’cha doin’?”
Bill’s head lolled to the side, he paused his game and turned slowly to look at Michael. He squinted in the relative darkness of the rest of the room, “I’m playing games, drinking and enjoying my day.”
“You know, we should probably head to work.” Michael tried to be gentle.
“Work?” Bill muttered sloppily, “It’s Shel! We don’t have any work.” He turned his head and returned to his game.
Michael stepped down and placed himself just to the side of the TV screen, “It’s totally not Shel, dude.” He looked around and grabbed two empty bottles. “How about this: I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and you can stay here and clean up?”
Bill grumpily paused his game and sneered in reply, “How about you do that?”
Michael rolled his eyes, “Cool cool cool. Ok. Well, I’ll see you later, then.”
Bill accentuated his voice in a deep vocal fry, “See you later, broooo.” He unpaused his game and set back to saving some fictional sovereign nation.
Michael went on to work knowing that nothing was going to get cleaned. Maybe Bill would clean up around the couch as a common courtesy, but he would do little beyond that.
***
When Michael arrived at his office, he was surprised to see that he had a new partner. Much less of a partner and more of a purple uniformed Shil’vati was rooting around in Bill’s desk. Michael wasn’t sure what his authority was or how to put on the façade of authority, but he gave his best attempt. “Heads up, soldier!”
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The rummaging stopped. The purple camouflaged camel’s hump in his vision stirred and then shook with laughter. The mound of marine turned to reveal themself to be Joph’rena. She wiped her newly wetted eyes saying, “Oh boy! Big bad Michael coming to put me in my place!” Her tears and laughter hadn’t stopped. “I always get the drop on you. This is the first time you’ve snuck up on me!”
“You must be busy,” Michael stated inquisitively. “Find anything good?” He asked as he put his bag down on his desk.
As she caught her breath, Joph’rena pulled a package of gum out of one of Bill’s desk drawers. “This will be the death of us.” She opened the lid and took a whiff.
Michael stumbled over his words as he watched Joph’rena’s eyes seem to dilate. “I, Uh, knew it was a thing for y’all, but I didn’t know it was that big of a problem.”
Joph’rena slurred a bit as she replied, “This is contraband.” She took another snuff at the lid of the cylindrical container. After a beat, she looked at Michael with a wide eyed suddenness that should have made Michael run. “Michael, darling, your armor idea is moving up the chain faster than anything I’ve ever seen. Well, there was that ‘mouse’ thing some other Human made, but this armor of yours, could be revolutionary.” She breathed the word more than said it. Michael couldn’t tell whether she was excited about the armor or feeling whatever effects the mints gave the Shil’vati, but he couldn’t tell whether he should be excited or frightened yet.
“Great?” Michael‘s voice pitched higher, still unsure how to respond to his new purple, gigantic, amplified officemate.
“I must show you!” Joph’rena exclaimed, grabbing her omnipad off of Bill’s table. Within a few taps and swipes, she was ready to turn the screen to show Michael. What he saw was magnificent. The Shil’vati model wearing the armor looked fabulous. The helmet had a distinct crystal luster with several spiking angles of cleavage. Any light would reflect off of it like a disco ball.
Joph’rena leaned in a little faster than either of them were prepared for, all the same, she wrapped around Michael in a conspiratorial embrace. He tried not to notice the press of her bust. “Yes, great,” Joph’rena breathed in seductive tones, “We’re going to be rich.” Again, her extended, breathy extension of the word rich: riiiiiiiich. Michael winced at her closeness. He held his ugly memories of Joph’rena and her big purple ilk being so close to him, holding him in place against his will. Suddenly, without releasing him, Joph’rena looked toward the door of the office. “Where’s Bill?”
Michael found himself in fear of being smothered by her. Wary of his position shifting further under her he hated the only reply he had, “Bill’s not well. He’s taking the day off.”
“Ooh,” Joph’rena replied, her eyes seemed like fiery suns going down in the horizon of her eyes, moving from the door and setting down on Michael’s face framed by another pair of her heavenly orbs. Michael saw Joph’rena’s backlit face, dark but for her eyes and light reflecting off of her tusks. Michael worried, Were her tusks glistening with drool? Between her hushed tones, amplified impulsive behavior and her muscular arms, Michael feared what would come next. “Well then, should the two of us continue your interviews?”
She straightened up and flipped through some folders that Michael and Bill had set up on a nearby filing cabinet to be ready for the next day.
Michael remained in his scrunched up position even though Joph’rena had moved away from him. He opened his eyes carefully and saw that she was over at Bill’s desk instead of surrounding him. He relaxed at his desk. I’m glad that business didn’t continue.
Taking a deep breath in and out, Michael replied. “I guess so. I didn’t know you’d be willing to join me,” he hesitated, “in person.”
Joph’rena twisted her tusk and opined dismissively. “Oh sure, why watch it on camera when there’s a spot available today and I can sit in?”
“Ok…” Michael cringed at the thought. “You have a camera? In my office?”
“Oh Michael,” she spoke to him as if he were a child, “I have cameras everywhere.”
Michael winced. “Including the bathrooms?”
“No, not on Imperial property. Maybe through an infrared drone camera-ah, it doesn’t matter. No.”
“You told me that you work in ‘Intelligence’. That means something different for the Shil’vati, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I think your people called them the FBI or the CIA or FDA or something. I’m a member of the Interior.”
Michael expected her to procure a badge. She didn’t. That’s disappointing. “What does that mean exactly?”
Joph’rena smirked, “No, you don’t get to know exactly what I do, but I’ll tell you that my job is to know things.”
“What do you–” Michael stopped himself. “What do you need to know, specifically from what I’m doing?”
“I’ve suspected that someone on the base was a member of the rebels that Ssgt Remington told you about on his way station. That somehow they’ve infiltrated our ranks. I don’t know who it is, but through your interviews I’m hoping we can comb through everyone and come up with a list of suspects.” She twisted a tusk and continued in a disappointed tone, “I have the power to authorize all the frills you give to our soldiers after their interviews.”
“The frills?” Michael scoffed.
“The air conditioning, the literal creature comforts you find out about your interviewees and promise them.”
“Call them ‘quality of life’ improvements. You have a diverse population on base, you can’t expect them all to abide by a single species’ preferences.”
Joph’rena spat, “You think soldiers get to choose where they sleep or what they eat when they’re at war?”
Michael replied with as much verve as he got, “We’re not at war!”
Joph’rena got close enough that Michael thought she would strike him. “Oh, but we are, Human.” She stayed too close to him for a moment. He could see her pores, smell the mint she had acquired from Bill’s drawer. He felt a bead of nervous sweat travel from his neck down to the small of his back.
Michael deliberately took a breath. “Are-” His voice was too quiet. He spoke up, “Are the soldiers not happier and therefore doing their jobs better?”
Joph’rena’s expression softened and she withdrew a bit. “The numbers are up. We can’t tell the higher ups that it’s because they’ve got an Interior Agent handing out goodies.”
“They’re not goodies, they’re accommodations. They’re a means of evening the playing field so that everyone can be equally productive.” Michael retorted. “This is what I do. I don’t give out ‘treats’, I treat everyone equitably, no matter who they are or what setbacks they have had or their background. They have the right to equitable treatment instead of the Imperium’s ‘one size fits all’ policy.”
“Equity.” Joph’rena mocked. “Yes, I’m familiar with the concept.”
“Great.” Michael stated.
“Fine.” Joph’rena punctuated.
Did I just talk back to a Shil’vati Spook? Who the hell are you, Michael? He thought as he swiveled his chair so that he faced the door.
***
Work proceeded as though there was a dark cloud looming over the interviews. A dark cloud named Joph’rena. Michael tried to plow through, he let in the first scheduled interviewee.
“So, Su’Palla, what do you do on base?” Michael asked with genuine interest.
Su’Palla, a scaly skinned Helkam blinked one set of eyelids. She was dressed in purple fatigues that fit her a little tighter than Michael was used to seeing. She wasn’t nearly as tall or as muscular as the average Shil’vati, but for all that litheness he observed, she must’ve been wirey. “Ssupplies” she hissed with a flick of her tongue. Michael started to write and then looked back up with a puffed out lower lip. Understanding that expression as one that needed more explanation, Su’Palla continued, “I overssee our supply of bedding, foodstuffs, maintenance equipment including replacement parts as well as ammunition.”
Michael squinted his eyes “So I can thank you for the snails we had a bit ago.” He heard Joph’rena’s stomach growl.
“Thank you for reminding me, Michael,” Joph’rena put her hands on her abdomen as if to try to shush her innards. She looked at Su’Palla, “When might we have that delicacy again?”
Michael saw Su’Palla’s eyes widen horizontally as she spoke, “Oh sssure, I cannot say for ccertain, but I sussspect that it will be quite a while.”
“Why?” Michael asked in relief while Joph’rena asked the same word at the same time in despair.
Su’Palla recoiled a bit, “We acquired that from a shipment from the Consortium or some such unlucky pirate that was intercccepted and requisssitioned for our usssse.” She flicked her tongue, “Our luck may win out at any moment, but when that will be is anyone’sss guess.”
Joph’rena closed her eyes and tweaked her tusk. Sighing, she replied, “Our sisters should have no problem making that kind of requisition.” She opened her eyes and looked at Su’Palla with renewed passion, “I’ll check in with some contacts higher up.”
Su’Palla’s appreciation shown in her scales as they seemed to shimmer, “Oh thank you, Joph’rena!”
Michael took a deep breath, “Ok y’all, this is too much inside baseball for me.” He stood up and grabbed his stuff and looked at the Halkan. “Su’Palla, have you found the shallows we set up on the waterfront adequate for your purposes?”
Su’Palla’s smile spread wide “We have found the accommodations primitive, but we’re burrowing them to our satisfaction.” Her vertically oriented pupils took a barely perceptible turn toward Joph’rena, she then lowered her head a fraction and clarified, “On our off duty hours, of course.” She made a stuttering hiss that seemed to indicate that she was joking.
“Grand.” Michael said pointedly and turned to Joph’rena. “It seems like you have the reins here, Joph’rena. Is it cool with you if I take off? Kind of a personal emergency has come up.”
Joph’rena wrinkled her eyebrows, “A personal emergency? During this conversation?”
It started before the conversation, when I found you in my office, Michael thought. Instead he grabbed his stomach and offered, “Yeah, right around the eating snails part.”
Joph’rena rolled her eyes, “Yeah, sure, your loss.” She gave him an inquisitive leer, “Though I would have liked to have observed you at work in the flesh.”
Michael chuckled apologetically. “Yeah, sure, take a raincheck?” He asked while he backed out of the door, not waiting for an answer.
After the door closed, Su’Palla flicked her tongue in the air briefly before asking, “Um, Joph’rena, what does ‘inssside baseball’ mean?”
Joph’rena looked back at Su’Palla and shrugged, “What’s a raincheck?”
The two shook their heads and opted to continue their conversation where they left off about bringing more delicacies to the base.