Diary of a Space Psychotic, 2nd entry

Hi … Jerry Witherspoon here!

Catch up on my diary, if you haven’t been following along. The idiot that runs this web site puts the latest posts first. Kinda like printing a book in reverse. Stupid git… sigh.

Anyway, here’s what’s come before… I guess I’ll have to add to this list every bloody time I update my diary:

An Astronauts Perfect Day

Diary of Space Psychotic, 1st entry

Caught up? Excellent… here we go:

———–

Very narrow air-ducts chaff, but a little baby powder does wonders.

Except when the ducts are so small a mouse would need a ton of olive oil to squeeze in. If there were mice on Mars, that is.

Of course Jerry thinks that was my plan to spring us from that stupid cell and fly the funny farm (insert eye roll). By the way, where’d “Funny Farm” come from? There’s nothing funny about it, except the food’s good here. On Mars it starts off powdered, so kudos to the chef. Worth hanging out for a little while. And this isn’t really a prison or a padded room, anyway, just an empty store room, I think. Smelled bad. Time to go.

Obviously I came up with another plan. In the military we learned how to go into this catatonic state with a pulse sooooo faint you turn a little blue, so when they brought us food they thought they’d delivered it to corpses. I was impressed, Jerry plays dead better than I do.

After they carted us away, we were in like flint. The toe tag tickled when they put it on. Thankfully I stifled a giggle and didn’t flinch, though things changed when they tried to put me in a body bag. Jerry kept out of the fray. This place isn’t staffed to handle a psychotic with combat training. Knocked out a couple of folks and ran like hell to a door that looks like an ordinary hallway panel. Only my fingerprints will open it. We sprinted down a long flight of stairs and into the tunnels. Most don’t even know exist, if anyone. Jerry certainly didn’t. Idiot. We seem to be arguing more, especially when he tells me where to go (and with rather rude and undeserved invective).

The corridors we crept through have a dark, dank feeling like that ancient game Doom, minus the creepy crawlies. The metal catwalks reminded me of the catacombs beneath the blasted cities in Europe. Minus the traps and the hand to hand combat. The shadows of the demons dogged us, their little faces loping in and out of the feeble lamplight, their spidery forms on the wall everywhere we passed. Jerry was scared and kept stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow. I was a little concerned too, especially since they stopped when we did.

That’s when things get interesting. Got interesting. Whatever. Future, past – all the same. We found and crawled through a narrow service conduit (that’s what got me thinking of baby powder, by the by, it would’ve been nice). We silently slipped out of a duct into a hanger on the outskirts of the city. Score! We came to be in the hanger I wanted to get to! Jerry grudgingly complimented me.

We tippy-toed behind some metal crates, close to the transport where Janet was preparing for our mission. One of the techs we brought from Earth was poking through some equipment near us. I knew what he wanted, so I grabbed it and backed into a corner of the room.

Moron kept coming our way, and then into a shadowy corner where we lurked. You see, Jerry and I can change our appearance, another useful trick of genetic modifications. Made us strong and fast too. Jerry stayed sane because I took all the mental punishment when the injected us with god knows how many serums. So, I’m good and nuts and can take the pain when the face transforms. Jerry just whimpers. Luckily this guy was about our height. We left him alive, uncomfortably stuffed in a crate. Maybe a tad worse for the wear. He might have a hard time breathing, actually. But, the mission is more important. Janet most certainly is.

That’s when I got angry. One of my little fits. I kept it to myself, and brought the cargo back near the transport, and pulled out a power pack. It was a rear unit. I opened a panel just above a rear wheel. Heh! I also cranked up the current and gingerly removed the ground wire.

As I was leaving, I nodded silently to Janet, then stopped short when Dick Pullerman walked into the hanger. His limp was dissatisfyingly small. He had a cocky smile on his face and puffed out his chest when he saw Janet. I monkeyed with the power cell to simply fry the transport when they started it, but I had a feeling this might get really interesting. Maybe he had come to inspect the ship? I got lucky.

I pulled down my cap, shushed Jerry, and headed for the exit. I heard Jerry talking to Janet so, before I left, I got real interested in a crate. He cursed and headed for the power cell sticking out of the hull. I thought I’d stuffed it all the way in, but pulling the ground wire meant I couldn’t seal it all the way. How fortunate!

I smiled at Janet, who cocked her head a little when I tipped my cap. Jerry almost gave us away. He wanted to talk to her so bad. But I clapped my hand over his mouth and, though I didn’t want to, slipped through the door and closed it. As it shut Dick’s screams echoed down the metal hallway. He had attempted to put the power pack back in correctly, I guess. I started to whistle “If only I had a heart”, which drew me up short. Damn if that didn’t take away from the moment. Jerry seemed upset. I shrugged my shoulders and ambled along.

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