THE DRYHEAVE LOUNGE

Jun 22nd 2011, 15:13 by E O Hatterpol | 1228 AU FROM SUN

"DO WHAT?!" I said in disbelief.


"Don't worry - he's secure," said the Condor reassuringly.


He threw his last bocce ball - it went way off the mark - & turned to leave the beach courts.  I didn't have any choice but to follow him.


We snaked our way through the Starbase's expansive tentacles to where Colonel Condor had anchored the Starship Dryheave.  I must confess, I felt like a bad-ass walking with the Condor's crew in my shiny new spacesuit.  I was getting all kinds of looks from the ladies!


I mean, I think I was, but I'm not much compared to the Colonel, the Roosterman & Sergeant Likes-to-Fight.  Bears in overalls beat travel writers with pink utility belts.


I got the chance to see the Colonel's killer whale up close through a suction cup window before we boarded.  It looked like the War Machine to the Starship Flybrary's Iron Man: skyscraper-sized gatling guns mounted under each flipper with bullets the size of automobiles, side-mounted rocket launchers so huge they could only be measured in acres & all manner of communications equipment like satellites & antennas.


It was a stone cold bad-ass starship, is what it was; a far cry from the peaceful public library I knew & loved.


Once inside, the Condor led me to the hallway where Captain Makemake was being held.  And suddenly I got cold feet.


"Colonel, I haven't seen Makemake since I tried unsuccessfully to murder him over a month & a half ago," I said.  "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."


The Condor gave me a quizzical look, almost as if he didn't understand fear.  Then his eyes broke into a smile & his cheeks pushed back; I couldn't actually see because of his gargantuan moustache, but I think he was smiling.


"More liquid courage, soldier!" he said jovially.  "I know just the trick.  Why don't we sit for a spell in my world-famous - nay, galaxy-famous! - Dryheave Lounge?  I'll tell you a story about that silly little chunkhead & me to pass the time."