Chapter ten

Elevator doors opening betrayed our peaceful trance. Dex came up through the portal and walked slowly toward where Dion and I saw fit to wile away our troubles, gazing into the sea of trash. It was too soon. I wanted to talk more with Dion: to get his take on this mad world and our captivating captain, to hear about who or what he’d left behind when he enlisted with the Monmouth. I had so much more to say, more to ask black dude, but I figured we would have more time to talk, so I didn’t bother for the moment. Dex sidled his way in-between us and looked out on the ocean with us.

“Back to work, fellas,” the little man said. “Lester, I’m going to need the newest trash pile sorted before the diurnal change.” I figured that was his way of saying “Nighttime.” The sun still hadn’t moved from its fixed point in the sky, resting comfortably in the zenith directly above our heads. In my estimation – it appeared at the time – nighttime was quite a long while off.

“Dion, do you have an answer to my question from before?” Dex quizzically posed, turning Dion away from me and pulling him to another part of the ship, expressing some sudden need for secrecy. I couldn’t remember now if I heard him ask a question earlier. Dex certainly wasn’t asking me any questions. I listened in; we rats have pretty good hearing.

“About that, I think I want to get a hold of a suit of armor.” I couldn’t believe my ratty ears. Were we going into battle? If so, I could fashion him with the shield I found.

“Really?” Dex whispered, and noticing me, he kept dragging Dion further and further away. “To what end?” Dion was beaming; no, the desire for armor must have some other purpose.

“Well...” Dion drifted out of vocative range. I could see him gesturing though: he was pointing up above us. At first I thought he was pointing at the funky sun that never moved. Then I saw Dex point up and he started to nod with a shoulder shrug. They were pointing at the main mast of the ship, or at some sort of apparatus attached to it. Another thing I hadn’t noticed before was revealed to me.

The devilish device had a long metallic neck, fully furled, that could easily have stretched out over the water a good distance. Suspended at the end of the neck was a chrome disc, roughly the size of the big old bath-shield. And now I noticed the controls at the base of the mast. Consisting of half-a-dozen levers, the controls were much like the ones you might find on a bulldozer. The ship had a crane of sorts, probably used for gathering trash.

As I slipped closer to hear more of the conversation, Dion spoke a little louder: he wanted me to hear him.

“...toughest rip-tide wouldn’t phase me man! All the plank needs is a little reinforcement. I can do this, man! We show Chris – er, Lester – how to work the crane...” He said that other name! Dex had obviously told it to him in order to cause dissention between us. Whatever, Dion was cool; he wasn’t going to use it against me. I picked up the thread. “...plowing through a bunch of glass and random rusted metal – whatever – then he fires up the magnet and I get pulled to safety. You understand, right? This is a spiritual thing for me, dude. You gotta let me do it.”

“I dunno, Dion...” Dex trailed off. Dion gestured wildly at me to join them, which made Dex sigh out uncomfortably. “Whaddya know, the rat’s listening in.”

“I’m gonna surf it man!” Dion shouted elatedly. I’ll say it again: this guy’s fuckin’ nuts!

“You’re gonna wear some armor, go surfing, and then when you bail, you really think that magnetic crane’ll pull you out?” I asked candidly. Dex folded his arms and looked at Dion; for once he agreed with me.

“It will if you’re behind the wheel, Lester,” Dion said, using the name I preferred. “Watch this!”

Black dude was all fired up. He ran over to the main mast, pulling frantically at the levers in succession. The crane arched and stretched like a kitten after a long nap. But this was no kitten: the metal disc shot out in an arc – like a fisherman casting his line. The neck must’ve been able reach over a thousand feet! I couldn’t believe that the ship could support it; couldn’t believe I wasn’t dreaming (even though I was). He activated another lever and the chrome head dropped to the water-level, way in the distance; another lever sent the machine into a frenzy. A wretched sound, like that of a plane landing, or the near-silence prior to a tsunami, filled the air. The magnet had caught something.

Then, like a deep-sea fisherman who bagged a wahoo, or better yet, an adult marlin, Dion tugged at the levers to reel in the treasure he’d discovered. He knew what the prey was, and he looked to me laughing and scratching with his usual jocularity. Much to my chagrin, a stacked washer-dryer unit plopped down on the quarter-deck. Be careful what you wish for. I would have to be much more disciplined with my thoughts, I whispered, quietly chiding myself.

Still, I was laughing infectiously with Dion, and surprisingly, so was Dex. All was well.

“Tell you what,” Dex said, attempting to calm us down. “When I see the suit of armor, I’ll let you show Lester the ropes on the Magnatron.” Dion didn’t say a word. He just shut his eyes closed and, standing akimbo near the controls, he was contemplating something deeply.

There was a modicum of silence, portentous and ominous. First a shoulder plate fell from the sky, right there on the wooden planks of the deck. An under-suit of chainmail soon followed. Then Dex and I ran for cover: many, many more buckled plates and fasteners, a helmet, and steely boots all came crashing down on the deck – it was pretty ridiculous. Such was the dream; hence, I should have known.

I was laughing again as Dion completed his concentration, and before the three of us could fathom the full consequences of such phenomena, the deck was littered with all the trappings of a full-suit of middle-aged platemail. And though Dex was laughing a little, in spite of himself, there was an imaginary cloud that remained behind – a kind of bad aftertaste. It was a moment to celebrate, sure, but the implications of it were more than a little disturbing. Dion had unlocked his ability.

Dex turned suddenly serious. By way of shoving me in the elevator without a word and waving me away, I guessed he needed to talk more with summoner Dion without me around.