Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Part Eleven, Chapter Seven - Blood and Guts in the Coat Closet

It's four in the morning, his stuff is packed, and Gris is eager to get a bit of shut-eye before blastoff, but he has the misfortune to bump into Heller as he returns to the hangar with Tug One.

Something I've noticed - every time Jettero Heller appears in the story, Hubbard takes a quick paragraph to describe what immaculate, snappy outfit he's wearing today.  For example, this time he's in a blue jumpsuit, sharply-creased and clean, topped off by that little red racing cap.  Whereas I still don't know so much as the color of Gris' hair even though the book's almost finished.  Makes it pretty clear where the author's interest lies.

We get a good page or two of Heller dressing down Gris for various reasons - he's trying to lug dangerous weaponry aboard the ship, which could discharge and blow them all up.  He hasn't cleaned himself up, which could stress the ship's air scrubbers and fray the crews' tempers over body odor.  Gris doesn't have a dress uniform for the launch ceremony.  His luggage smells bad (Ske decided to sweep up all the dust and crap on the floor of Gris' room so he could take it with him).  Heller orders Gris to get himself sorted out and showered, and Gris is too sleep-deprived to protest much.

The Apparatus agent strips down on the hangar floor, earning a giggle from an unseen Countess Krak, then clambers aboard the spaceship.  He loads his sensitive goods, including all that surveillance gear, into a specially-shielded compartment, then sleepwalks his way through the crew's laundry room and takes a shower while Heller gives Ske some money to buy a nice uniform for Gris.  Gris is amazed at the amount of dirt that comes off him because the morally-bankrupt Apparatus doesn't believe in personal hygiene, even though Gris has noticed several times now how others can tell a disguised Apparatus agent by his appalling stench.  And if Gris can notice that, surely someone else can.  I mean, hunters have known for thousands of years that your scent can give you away when-

Anyway, when Gris comes out all squeaky-clean (for once), he finds his skivvies but not his uniform roll.  Turns out he was so sleepy he shoved all his clothes in the incinerator!  Which I guess laundry rooms on spaceships have as standard.  Luckily Ske has dropped off a dress uniform for him.  And what a uniform it is.

Lying on a dead-black cloth, the red embroidery was quite startling.

Bones, hangman's noose, electric whips.  Bones?  Hangman's noose?  Electric whips?

The helmet.  Black!  A huge phosphorescent skull!

It was the dress uniform of a colonel of the Death Battalions!

It even had the belts that symbolized bleeding intestines!

It was the number one terror uniform of the whole Voltarian forces!

No Hubbard, what you've described is a goofy-ass Halloween costume.  The really scary uniforms - KGB, SS, that kinda stuff - they look pretty much like the uniforms of normal army branches, they don't try to look like zombies or werewolves or anything.  It's the reputation of the organization that inspires the fear, not the fake blood you splatter on the clothes or the skulls on the cufflinks.  I mean yeah, the SS did use the death's head, but they were fairly restrained with it, and they weren't counting on people freaking out because of them.  It was part of the whole myth they were building around themselves, not purely an attempt to intimidate.

This uniform is terrible.  I mean, if you're wearing the noose around your neck, what's a guy going to go for in a fistfight?  Stupid.  And the intestines?  "Oooh, look how disemboweled I am, fear meeeeeee, oooh."  Stupid.

Gris quite reasonably decides to delay the donning of this outfit and tries to take a power nap, but no sooner does he lay down when the ship starts roaring and lurching.  Gris runs up to the bridge in a towel to find Heller piloting the tug into a new position, landing it on its engines so its nose is pointed skyward.  This causes all the furniture in the ship to swivel and compensate, which is neat, though you have to ask why the artificial gravity isn't on, or why the tug needs to stand on its tail for lift-off in the first place.  Maybe it's a style thing.  Maybe Hubbard's mind just couldn't imagine a spacecraft that took off like a commercial jet instead of a rocket.  Even though his mind described spacecraft that were commercial jets with rockets instead of turbines.

Gris returns to his room, but another attempt to sleep is interrupted when Bawtch of all people shows up to say his farewells and give Gris a stack of paperwork to stamp.  He comments how Gris' uniform matches the blackness of his soul, and shares that "I heard a rumor that these ships blow up, so have a nice voyage" before leaving.

And then... Gris tries to go to sleep, again.  After having a cup of hot jolt while stamping some of Bawtch's paperwork.  He decides that the worst is over, that when he wakes up he'll be safely underway on the voyage to Earth.  But the chapter ends with Gris narrating how he was about to experience "the most nerve-shredding departure in space history!"

Wow, guess we're in for a real tour de force next chapter, eh?  But it'll be hard to top this chapter, what with the laundry and luggage and showering and paperwork and everything.


Back to Chapter Six

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