The Last Ferry (Part I)
(Serial Flash Sci-fi) "He wanted a pretzel. He could taste the salt on his tongue, the oozy velvet cheese gushing into his mouth after taking a bite. How did they get the cheese inside?"
Episodes
The Last Ferry (Part I)
by Annie Hendrix
When the elevator arrived at the dock, the people inside pushed up against the door of the humid metal box. The doors opened and the body of passengers, squished together by the finite opening, moved as one mass through the elevator door and into the plaza. Marcus was among them, wedged between a woman dragging a tired-drunk child by the arm and the elderly man Marcus had befriended on the multi-day journey from Earth’s surface to the ferry terminal.
“The Mars Destiny is now boarding rows A through I,” said a voice over the loudspeaker.
“Get food when you can, while you can,” the old man said.
They waddled forward as the crowd squeezed through the door.
“They have food on the ferry, right?”
“You could call it that,” the man chuckled.
Marcus was hungry. The food on the two-and-a-half-day space elevator ride had technically provided the same calorie count he consumed at home, but his stomach gnawed at itself.
The moment they breached the gate, the old man broke away from the crowd and walked through the plaza and into a tube-shaped corridor. The walls and ceiling were transparent, and through the transparency rested the infinite universe, the empty black velvet sky painted with a magnificent display of colorful gasses.
The other passengers broke into lines in front of the vendors. They had food just like they had at home. Why couldn’t they serve Bean Dream, Pizza Mini, and Lava Pretzel on the elevator and The Mars Destiny?
Marcus’s stomach growled. He joined the line for Lava Pretzel. He could taste the salt on his tongue, the oozy velvet cheese gushing into his mouth after taking a bite. He wondered whether you could really call a pretzel that was not twisted into the shape of a pretzel, a pretzel. And how did they get the nacho cheese inside?
“226 nautical miles above Earth, can you believe that?” said the man standing in front of Marcus to his companion. She crossed her arms and swayed in the direction of the view, smiled as if she had seen better universes, and then began to harass the pretzel vendor.
“Miss, can you hurry up please? We’re going to miss the ferry.”
The pretzel vendor remained focused on her work.
“Excuse me!” The woman hollered.
The line seemed to move more and more slowly. Marcus’s stomach growled, and he looked around at the other lines to assess whether or not he should give up on Lava Pretzel and explore other options.
“The Mars Destiny is now boarding rows J through R,” said the voice over the intercom.
Marcus broke away from the line and headed past the other crowded food vendors and toward the corridor the old man had walked down to see if there was more food in that direction.
A Snoop waited for him when he turned the corner. The security drone was designed and coded like a dog, but was not friendly like a dog. Snoops were friendly like a nark, and on Earth the second they detected body heat in the streets after curfew they’d seek it—at one hundred miles per hour—all flash and no sound. The Snoop trotted in front of Marcus, back and forth, as if to try and slow him down. Perhaps to encourage him to turn around and go back to the food court. To herd him.
“What’s at the end of the corridor, pup? Something you don’t want me to see?” jested Marcus, but he wondered why there were no doors in what he had assumed was a corridor and where the old man could possibly have gone. They reached the end of the passageway and there were two vending machines, one with an “out of order” sign attached.
“Get what I can, when I can. That’s what the old man said.”
Marcus approached the operable vending machine and the Snoop followed him. The options were nowhere near the glory of Lava Pretzels. Powder Cookies, Compressed Beef, Block Cheese. He entered “E3” to select Block Cheese, then noticed the emblem above the keypad that said Tokens Only.
“Tokens are available in the plaza,” a recorded voice came from the Snoop.
“Thanks for the tip,” he said to the robotic hound, then turned around and walked back to the food court.
“The Mars Destiny is now boarding rows S through Z.”
When Marcus returned there was no longer any line at the pretzel shop.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” said the woman when he approached the counter.
“Please, I’ll take three of those,” he held up his wrist and invited her to scan his bracelet.
“The register is offline. If you have tokens I could do it, but you really don’t have time.”
“Where do I get tokens?”
“The Mars Destiny will finish boarding in one minute and thirty seconds. Please board,” said the intercom.
The woman behind the counter waited for him to register the urgency of the situation. Marcus waited for her to answer her question. He stared at the tray of perfectly formed pretzels, delicately sprinkled with sea salt, filled with molten nacho cheese.
“Please, just tell me how to get the tokens. I’ll be quick.”
The woman sighed, then pointed to the wall next to the elevator terminal.
“This is the last ferry. You should really board now!” The woman called after Marcus as he ran to the token machine.
The second Marcus started running the Snoop trotted in front of him and he tripped over the metal dog and rolled onto the vinyl floor.
“The Mars Destiny will finish boarding in thirty seconds. Please board,” said the voice over the intercom.
Marcus looked toward the pretzel shop. The woman’s silky face sunk downward, her brow furrowed, her arms crossed. He stood up as she watched, straightened his clothes and began to walk, too slowly, to the ferry entrance. She rolled her eyes and shut the bulletproof glass, and pulled down the metal gate.
“Please step away from the doors,” the voice over the intercom said.
Marcus broke into a run, but the doors issued a hydraulic sigh and snapped shut as the Snoop tailed him.
The tunnel glimmered as the vessel hummed and Marcus arched his neck back and gazed up at The Mars Destiny as it ascended.
The last ferry had left, and it had left without Marcus.
More Short Sci-Fi by Annie Hendrix:
Hector
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Portrait of a Bird
The automatic double doors parted for Leonard as he entered the hardware store. The breeze followed and carried the remaining smoke from his morning cigarette, still smoldering in the ash tray. There was pressure in his chest. Heat in his cheeks. It was cool outside but sweat clung to the lid…
Just wasn't Marcus' day but priority is priority
I was really rooting for the guy too.