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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2008173-Welcome-to-the-Future
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2008173
Mylar and Amazon, space farers and friends, are preparing for their next journey.
Mylar entered coordinates while Amazon looked, his arms crossed over his chest. “You think those are gonna get us there?”

Rolling his eyes, Mylar paused before opening his mouth. He had a tendency to tell people to go to Mercury too quickly. “Yeah, Zon, I’m more than certain.”

“I’m just saying that it looks like you’ve put in three jumps when it should only take two to get us to the Dysentery System.”

“Who named it that anyways?”

“Anyway. And beats me. One of those contest winners most likely.” Amazon pulled up the grid of nearby space, including their own Terran System and those near the Dysentery System. “See, jump here and here and we’ll be there in no time.”

He stared at the display and clicked his teeth. “I know that that looks like a good route, but you’re forgetting Hydra’s Heart. It’s here right now,” he said while pointing to the rogue comet. Tapping it’s icon highlighted the egg-shaped orbit of the paradoxically icy fireball. “By the time we jump to our first point, the Heart will be in the Googlebing System and distort our gravitation readings anyways. Meaning we’ll have to jump above the galactic plane first and then reorient toward our next leg. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

“Anyway.”

“What? You disagree?”

“No, not at all. It’s solid math and a glaring oversight on my part. But anyways is not a word. It’s anyway.”

Mylar held Amazon’s gaze. The pasty, muscled co-pilot had the hint of a smirk. Going for broke, Mylar said, “I’ve always thought that your name was stupid.”

“What?” Amazon said, his face becoming blotched.

“Your name. Amazon. It’s stupid.”

“And what kind of name is Mylar. What are you, a man or a balloon?” Amazon chuckled. “Well, I guess you’re like a balloon: you’re filled—”

“—with hot air. Hardy har har. Like I haven’t heard that before, you pompous ass.” He focused back on his control panel in the captain’s seat. The two were the only people aboard the Davenport Flame so it hardly mattered to either if they shouted or whispered their fights. But Mylar knew it was counterproductive so he decided to let the situation slide.

Beside him, Amazon started adjusting his stance and Mylar knew what was coming. “No, don’t you dare…” But it was done: Amazon had passed gas. “Oh, you sick bastard! Did you guzzle from a sulfur pool or something? What is wrong with you?” He flicked the air scrubber in hopes that it would dissipate Amazon’s obnoxious odors more quickly.

“And where would I have found a sulfur pool around here? It’s nothing but desert our there, man.” Plopping down in his co-pilot chair, Amazon picked up his personal tablet and started playing a game with decidedly annoying background music.

“Could that be any louder?”

With subtle strokes, the music became gently louder until it threatened to drown out the sounds of the engines warming up. Mylar yelled, “Okay, I get it. Now could it be any quieter?” With another chuckle, Amazon turned the volume down and proceeded to play. “And why exactly aren’t you doing something important, Zon?”

“Building up my dinosaur army is important. Some bastard from Archeopteryx Tribe raided my cave and took a dozen fossils.”

“That game is ridiculous.”

“I know! Like the archeopteryx even existed at the same time as the dinosaurs!”

“Not that, moron. Why would there be dinosaur fossils when you’re building a dinosaur army? They’re still alive.”

“When humans die, we leave bones behind, right?”

“And?”

“Dinosaurs left bones behind, man. When they died.” He put his finger to his temple. “Think about it.”

Rolling his eyes again, Mylar said, “Yeah, I’ll think about that while I think about that ridiculous case you have around your tablet.”

Amazon grinned. “You don’t like my stone tablet?”

“It might as well be one of those wood grain skins. It’s ridiculous. This is the twenty-third century. You should embrace this age, not the stone age.”

“I’m embracing that someone thought it would be a cool idea to make your tablet look like it’s a stone tablet. That’s too cool for words!”

The console beeped. “Finally, the engines are ready. Can you get on the comm and ask Eff Cee if we can leave?”

“Just a sec,” Amazon said with a grunt as he tapped his tablet screen. “I’m placing my troops.”

“Okay… just take your time… I guess.”

Several minutes passed with Mylar clicking his teeth while Amazon continued tapping and dragging on his modern day stone tablet.

Finally, Mylar said, “Zon!”

“Alright! Okay! Don’t see why I gotta always be the one to do this anyway. You’re sitting right there. Okay,” he said while sitting up in his chair, putting down his tablet, and clicking the comm switch while putting on his headset. “Flight Control, this is Davenport Flame requesting persimmon to leave.”

“It’s permission. Not persimmon.”

“Shhh, Mr. Rude.”

“Rudé.”

Amazon listened for several seconds. Mylar could only make out a bit at a time but he sensed it was not good news. His co-pilot concluded the call and hung his headset. “Bad news and good news.”

“No kidding.”

“A sandstorm is bearing down on the spaceport even as we speak. We won’t get to leave for three hours.”

Mylar groaned. “And the good news?”

Grinning, Amazon pulled out his tablet again. “The gentleman at Eff Cee just comped our Wi-Fi for those three hours. Meaning no extra data fees on the bill!” He then gave all of his focus to his dinosaur troop while Mylar sat back.

After several seconds of listening to the music, Mylar gave in and pulled out his own tablet to fire up Tyrant Lizard Kings. “Okay, I haven’t logged in in a while. I keep getting notifications that I’m losing fossils. Like I care about that anyways.”

“Anyway.”

They made eye contact and then grinned simultaneously before focusing on their efforts to kill time.



Word Count: 1,000
© Copyright 2014 Than Pence (zhencoff at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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