1 TREVOR
My great grandfather’s dream became reality. He designed and retrofitted Red Entaries. A red, sleek and dynamic space shuttle constructed for transportation to the moon colony. My great grandfather Marcus had a breakthrough when he built the company Lunar Life Corp, but what about me, and my life?
A white streak in the clouds was outside Trevor’s skyscraper window. His reflection had black hair resting on his shoulders like a messy mop, not hiding the deep under-eye circles from too much sleep.
Trevor would not just show any woman around town; he had to find true love. He could imagine it, a feeling of grace when his corporate spaceship, Red Entaries, would be greeted on the pavement. His true love would be the pilot, and she would land anytime from her current moon delivery. The spacecraft itself could pack a punch through the atmosphere easily and breathlessly. She would tell him many jokes and perils about the moon colony.
After his daydream. Trevor got halfway up in his chair to meet the spaceship at its touchdown when the commlink on his wrist alerted him.
“This is Chairman Trevor Trahern of Lunar Life Corp; how may I help you this morning?”
“Aye, it’s Cliff.” He is known to arrive with grease-stained clothes from assembling ore scanners for asteroid miners.
Trevor frowned when Cliff sounded like he was rolling on the ground uncontrollably chattering, not that he didn’t enjoy his friend’s laughter, he knew this wasn’t Cliff’s sobering humility, and that he must have been on a drink run, and it’s unheard of him arriving on the last day of the week.
Trevor sighed as Cliff spilled every exciting detail, and he always does, but not drinks, no, never those.
Trevor shook his head as Cliff spoke on, wondering if Cliff would ever understand. That he is not the nightclub type, but no, he never ceases, one of these days Trevor is going to go on one of those drink runs, Cliff is wearing him out, even though he is the respectable saint type, and you never know, it could be the place where he finds true love and the woman of his dreams.
“Yahoo!” A vibration shook Trevor’s armrest. He had to shake it more than once after an electrical disturbance to make sure Cliff didn’t break it.
“You’re not going to believe this Sir, oh, I mean Trev’, there’s a lot open, even on Dakrin 07. I cannot hear you, are you there? Your comm’s not picking up.”
“I am here Cliff,” He returned the disturbance like an echo. “Cliff, I am just in my office. I was about to take the elevator to see the crew touchdown.”
“No... stay there, I will be right up...”
The sky rise elevator chimed and a series of lights lit up one at a time at the brim where a rainbow of colors met a brown frame looking down upon him. He leaned against the elevator entrance in the hallway where it shot up in a second’s moment, touching gently down in one smooth motion.
The elevator caused Clifford Clayworth to rise to his toes, then would break back in his boots again. There was no bang, clang, or rattle, but a single chime as the doors resonated when breached.
Cliff waltzed in revealing an emotion other than being drunk. Cliff was Trevor’s best employee, so with open arms he was ready to catch him stumbling. Cliff bragged about his grey suit, silver tie, and ponytail. The guise of a chauffeur driver was not enough to share his excitement with the host. (Cliff was ready to drive Trevor to the nightclub.)
Cliff shook Trevor’s hand, then placed a document down his inner pocket to next fix his crumpled suit tie, nice and neat. Trevor broke away.
Something fishy is going on. Why did Cliff just shake my hand and fix my tie? Then he put an envelope in my suit jacket?
Trevor paced back and forth on the polished wooden office floor below a digital clock clicking noon.
Hell, Cliff, what are you up to?
“I am not going to the pub for a one-night stand, that is not how I treat women,” Trevor complained.
“But Sir,” Cliff lowered his head, “you are middle-aged, single, and I have women and liquor at the nightclub...”
“A good woman would be a partner not a pitfall,” Trevor responded.
“Wait, wait, wait, just hear me out, it’s different this time, I promise!” Cliff jolted ahead of Trevor, stammering into his office, he searched through his shelves. “Now where is it—?” Cliff clapped.
“Go fish!” Trevor said like he was going to fire him.
Cliff knew Trevor was impossible to get to the pub.
“For someone, one and lonely,” Cliff said, “you sure know how to hide a bottle of moon beer.”
Out—the expression was not words, but how Trevor pointed his finger.
“But Trev...” Cliff was going past the boundaries of an employee and a friend.
“I have had enough; you are in the red zone. Cliff, you might lose your job for this.”
“Sir, you don’t mean it...” Cliff lowered his head and stammered again, “I have terrific news for us...I mean, you, you, you.” He rolled up his sleeves then nodded. “There is an open plot or lot where the best asteroid is mined, Sir.” Cliff nodded once more.
Trevor crossed his arms and turned his head away, “It’s in the desk, it slides open...”
“Now, this is no practical joke that no one has signed on,” said Cliff. He took the bottle and tried to pull the compressed cork, but he only loosened it. “There are no bids, Sir, it’s all ours,” Cliff had a wide grin like a homeless man who found a lost bottle of booze.
Trevor shrugged at his window and saw a red blur in the distance initiating its landing gear.
“Okay Cliff, keep this quiet.”
Cliff knew Trevor was interested.
“Just the thing to honor my expired great grandfather, and you know what.” Trevor turned around and reached inside his suit; also, not forgetting, but forgiving, especially when he read the nightclub invitation in his pocket from Cliff. “Keep it a secret.”
“Aye, scouts honor Trevor.”
“And bring that bottle along,” Trevor said like his mouth was dry.
